It had been a startling find when she had spotted the pale female roaming out in the wilds. Young, so young. What the hell was going on in Molodian if the parents couldn't even watch their young? Yet secretly Aithne is pleased. She had been young and alone in the first part of her life, scrambling to survive with tooth and claw, and it looked as if Blaire was doing the same. Not so great, she might add, if her judgement of the girl's thin musculature was to be considered true. The Empress is struck by just how much she is reminded of Halcyon. She had drug him here by the scruff of his neck with him screaming and protesting but looking quite the worse for wear, just like Blaire, and he had turned out to be an essential member of Iromar. A key player with a drive she applauded. Thus she began the movement of herding, enjoying the rush of being the stalker. The bushes rustle and her dark figure slides beneath shadows, startling the girl into running - then begins the true nature of herding. Too far left, can't have that, back to the right, good girl.

Blaire comes to an abrupt stop at the edge of Iromar and screams, her voice feral and unrestrained, and from the stark shadowed nook that winter offers, Aithne complies. Maybe she should be kinder, gentler, but it is not her way. Especially when being called a coward. She emerges with slow, easy steps. Aithne is large, considerably larger than the girl, and she is broad. There is very little about her that can be considered beautiful - her maw is wide with thick, flashing canines. Her chest is broad and stalwart, even her paws are massive as she moves towards Blaire, blocking escape back into the lands they had come from.

The sunlight flickers across her obsidian body, revealing two russet marks that start at the back of her ears and trail down on either side of her spine before tapering out at her hips. A white spot blazes across her chest and her right fore paw is covered in the same white as well. Deep emerald eyes stare out at Blaire, the left eye showing a ring of red around the pupil. Aithne stalks closer to the girl, her tail lifted up, her whole posture dominant and demanding submission from the girl. A growl emerges, low and deadly, as she draws closer, intending to force Blaire smaller, if only for a moment. "You should watch who you speak to in such a tongue, girl, others might not be so kind." Her voice is hoarse, just as fitting as her large body. In truth, she is amused by Blaire's attempts at bravado, but it would be best that she see Aithne for what she was. An Empress, and not one who would easily be walked over. "You are here to stay for a time. Winter is a hard time to be alone and judging by the looks of you, a meal or two can't be ignored?" A slow lift of her brow, almost condescending, daring Blaire to disagree. "You will stay for a span of two weeks and thereafter, if you wish it, you may leave or stay. While you are here I will send another to speak with you, to train you a bit. You've the looks of a huntress but you lack the finesse of one." At once she offers veiled insults but also the chance to grow better. What would Blaire chose in the end?

Nine - Empress of Iromar - fated for Praetor

aithne