Post by Sabaoth on Dec 20, 2015 18:16:32 GMT -5
At last, Sabaoth had returned home from Kal’dyne. The moment his paws had touched Ina’mos, he’d paused only long enough to lead the ivory Valyn femme who he had taken as prisoner – and whose name he’d learned was Emerald – to the dens before he’d left her. The scent of the she-wolves seasons was strong upon Ina’mos now that winter had descended upon them, and the moment he’d realized what that meant, he’d gone in search of Odara. Roka’s season had come early – or perhaps late – and Sabaoth knew it would not come again now, not when her body had only recovered from its first birth a few short weeks before. And while he’d meant to go to Roka first, to inform her of Typhon’s victory over Valeria and the conquests success, he’d found himself drawn instead to the falls where the silver-eyed femme he’d taken as his second mate awaited him. There he’d spent the remainder of the evening and all of the night with her, before at last slipping away as the sun rose over Ina’mos once more. Now he would find Roka.
If Sabaoth was being honest with himself, he felt guilty, for he had not yet informed Roka of Odara or her role as Consort. It was a strange feeling, entirely foreign to the brute, one that made his irritation flare. He had not felt guilt when he’d claimed the less-than-sound Valyn femme before his departure from Kal’dyne; he had not felt guilt when he’d brought along the second femme, either, or even when he’d lost his temper so many moons ago and killed the rogue male who had set foot upon Acerbus soil and who had showed such blatant disrespect. And yet something about Roka, the first mate he’d taken and the mother of his children, made him experience feelings that had never dared manifest in Sabaoth before.
He followed her scent deeper and deeper through the forest until the ground beneath his paws turned soft, and the telltale scent of the swamp mingled with the feminine, familiar smell of Roka. He did not smell their children here, and he was not surprised; they’d grown so swiftly, getting larger with each passing day until at last they’d grown big enough to explore on their own. They were likely romping across Ina’mos at that very moment, causing havoc and annoying whoever was unfortunate enough to stand in their way, a thought that made Sabaoth smile. His children were certainly hellions – all except for Kegan, who was damn near silent each time that Sabaoth encountered him.
At last it seemed as if he’d traveled far enough into the murk of the bog; Roka’s form appeared before him as he moved around a cluster of trees, and he paused, taking in the sight of her. His gaze roamed across her frame before coming to rest on her eyes; she looked healthy, he noted to himself. There was a moment of silence as he advanced towards her, stopping when he stood only several inches from her, his muzzle lowering to brush along the top of her skull.
”Roka,” he greeted her quietly, pulling back to gaze at her. ”The conquest was successful.” There were things they needed to discuss, but Sabaoth would not bring them up immediately. In time he would tell her of Odara – though he did not stop to think that the scent of the silver-eyed she-wolf likely clung to his pelt.
If Sabaoth was being honest with himself, he felt guilty, for he had not yet informed Roka of Odara or her role as Consort. It was a strange feeling, entirely foreign to the brute, one that made his irritation flare. He had not felt guilt when he’d claimed the less-than-sound Valyn femme before his departure from Kal’dyne; he had not felt guilt when he’d brought along the second femme, either, or even when he’d lost his temper so many moons ago and killed the rogue male who had set foot upon Acerbus soil and who had showed such blatant disrespect. And yet something about Roka, the first mate he’d taken and the mother of his children, made him experience feelings that had never dared manifest in Sabaoth before.
He followed her scent deeper and deeper through the forest until the ground beneath his paws turned soft, and the telltale scent of the swamp mingled with the feminine, familiar smell of Roka. He did not smell their children here, and he was not surprised; they’d grown so swiftly, getting larger with each passing day until at last they’d grown big enough to explore on their own. They were likely romping across Ina’mos at that very moment, causing havoc and annoying whoever was unfortunate enough to stand in their way, a thought that made Sabaoth smile. His children were certainly hellions – all except for Kegan, who was damn near silent each time that Sabaoth encountered him.
At last it seemed as if he’d traveled far enough into the murk of the bog; Roka’s form appeared before him as he moved around a cluster of trees, and he paused, taking in the sight of her. His gaze roamed across her frame before coming to rest on her eyes; she looked healthy, he noted to himself. There was a moment of silence as he advanced towards her, stopping when he stood only several inches from her, his muzzle lowering to brush along the top of her skull.
”Roka,” he greeted her quietly, pulling back to gaze at her. ”The conquest was successful.” There were things they needed to discuss, but Sabaoth would not bring them up immediately. In time he would tell her of Odara – though he did not stop to think that the scent of the silver-eyed she-wolf likely clung to his pelt.
