welcome the under king

There are devilish thoughts, even in the most angelic minds. 

A quote he was sure he had heard somewhere in the great beyond. Somewhere poetry thrived atop a mountain in a quaint little town, where women fawned over the idea of flowery words rather than actions. It was a place that was lavish in architecture and cathedrals, marked by a God who did not favor them. Yes. He was sure he had heard it here. Before it fell to ashes by the very people who thrived off its charm. 

Having woken up in a new, odd place with even odder creatures, felt like a blessing in disguise. Domains remained unconquered, women remained flowered, and men seemed to be well... men. Primal instincts seemed to flourish in this land, and it was a trait he could appreciate. Even more so as his paws carried him to the edge of the world. 

Gloom and despair clung to the thick clouds that rolled in overhead. It was suffocating and toxic, but the man reveled in the words. It caused the dark, mysterious green plateau give off an ominous, almost deadly aura. As if he was to take another step, venom would be plunged into his skin and he would writhe on the floor. It felt like an illusion. A masterfully crafted one at that. Rising peaks of mountains and rolling hills cradled the terrain, maintaining its structure against the open sea. Littered throughout, small patchworks of streams courses gingerly through the blades. All of which led to a lake that could reflect the heavens. It was wide as it was gorgeous, providing the perfect atmosphere for a home he was itching to built. Yes. This place would surely do.
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Not chosen by the gods.  Not blessed by them, either, based on the fact that she was here instead of anywhere else.  Daciana didn't have anyone to complain to, and hell, could she even?  What would she say?  You chose to live as a knight.  You got what you wanted.  It's true.  She'd gotten exactly what she wanted, and now she was dead for it.  Something about letting girls, girls barely older than teens, make their own decisions.  She'd been forsaken by the family that was supposed to love and protect her.  What Daci didn't know?  They'd done it for a reason.  They'd sent her out there to die.  That's what happens when you're too smart and too driven for your own good.  

Power comes with risks.  

The day dark as her mood, threatening a storm on the horizon.  It was fitting.  Daci moved to the lake, knowing that she needs to regroup.  She needs to get her bearings, she needs to get her shit together.  Though she's sore, the girl still eats the ground beneath her as she moves.  Every step long, powerful.  At least she still carries herself like a commander, right?  Though a red man prickles at the edges of her vision as Daci approaches the lake, that would be a worry for later.  For now, the girl dips her muzzle to drink at the frigid water.  Though she wasn't really alive, she wasn't dead either... was she?  Fuck, why did she feel so strangely? 

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Off in the near distance, a woman came into view. Like their surroundings, she was beautiful. Elegantly crafted of mine marble. Ivory clashed with ebony, to the point that it gave her a purple-ish hue. There was no doubt she was heaven sent. No woman that looked like that would climb their way out of the hells. But the way she walked made him think differently. Each of her footfalls were strong, confident, and unwavering. She may not know the land, but she certainly gave off the aura that she did.

He could work with that.

Eyes of red bore into the woman, etching every curve into his mind as he made the humble decision to grace her with his presence. Surely she would be bewitched by his alluring frame and his charming deposition. Most women were. If they were not – they never lived long enough to tell. Couldn’t have wolves like that living on such an earth. No. It would be disrespectful to himself to let such miscreants live. Who would have such awful taste?

Deciding not to let such intrusive thoughts cloud his mind, Velkan slowly removed the distance between the two. Her presence was alluring, almost godly in an odd and peculiar way. There was just something about her that demanded his attention. His respect. Which is something he did not give. Certainly not willingly.

“Who do I have the pleasure of meeting?” he drawled casually before lowering himself into a neutral sitting position. If she was a threat, he would deal with it later. His more casual approach showed how unimpressed he was, and how he did not feel in danger. But part of him hoped she would prove him wrong. If she was who he thought she was, this woman would make a divine addition to his pack. A songbird aiding a snake.
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