Mothering will never be something that Aithne can express a proficiency in, but she has grown quite close with Halcyon. He has proven to be one of her most loyal wolves. Youth was the perfect age to train in the arts for such young brains had a retention rate that was amazing. All the information easily and readily available. Over and over he has proven himself and she would forever give him purpose because most desired that, even if they did not know it. What would he be if she had left him in the squalor that he had been in? Dead, probably, for he had been skin and bones. Half-feral and lonely. So she finds that she is unnerved by his close call to death. It agitates her, pressing her pacing into something violent, the swing of her head, the cut of her claws into the earth. It is fortunate that they had not laid a fang or claw upon him else she would send out the bulk force of Iromar to slaughter them, her dislike for any who would harm her wolves so great.

She can see the moment that Halcyon begins to calm, her words soothing him, and she does have faith in Amoxtli. He was the son of Coza. If he didn't, well, she would be forced to go on high alert. "He beat Jaidah. Took out her eye, you know?" Now a rough chuckle as she glances at Halcyon, trying to ease some more of his worries. "Even if the male did win Amoxtli would not leave until he had made sure all those wished to leave were gone and that they were safe, I assure you. Who are your relatives in Taviora?" This was news to her but Aithne did not know parentage and lineages. It had become something of an entertainment to realize she kept bringing family members together.

While Iromar was not full, it was filled with driven wolves. Powerful wolves. Even one of the Angel bloodline roosted here as her Stygian and Halcyon was of a royal bloodline himself. Praetor and Vesper were children of Tesseract, son of Ruvindra who had once ruled Iromar. So much powerful blood, so much loyalty. She hoped he might find some who would come to Iromar to stay but if not, perhaps they could make allies out of the youth for one day they would be Molodian's reigning population. A leader must always think of the future in steps and gains. "Even if they wish to spend time here to learn, they are welcome as long as they obey my rules. Allies are a commodity we can never be without. Do not thank me, Halcyon, I do this because you are pack. You are mine just as I am yours and I will always protect what is mine." She smiles then, a proud, regal sort of smile that seems odd on her brusque figure, but it is the smile of an Empress.

Eight - Empress of Iromar - fated for Praetor

aithne