` darkness there {król}

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Król had been patrolling when the howl came to his ears.

Still sullen over his recent defeat at the hands of that pathetic little Isles female (no, he most definitely was not bitter over having his ass thoroughly beaten by a wolf that was inferior to him in every sense of the term, and would tell such a fact to anyone who bothered to listen) and the fact that Sethos remained so small in numbers several months after its formation, the Thilas had decided that looking for any would-be trespassers to beat the shit out of would be an excellent way to get his mind off of his darker thoughts. He wasn't going to be foolish enough to think that either Saul or Far would appreciate emotional ranting, and with Nemesis having mysteriously disappeared there was no one he could take his frustration out on within the pack- and heaven help him if he laid so much as the tip of a claw on Saul's little bitch.

So he walked, occasionally taking a snap at any bird or other desert creature that happened to get within his striking range. The Tundra brute was obviously in a foul mood- or a much fouler mood than general, anyway- and was in no mood to suffer any fools that he came across in his daily patrolling. He was getting damned tired of having to chase wandering vagabonds out of their territory, after all, tired of constantly having to grind the fact that these lands were now claimed into their shrewd little minds. Sometimes he honestly wondered if the loners of Anikira actually possessed a sense of smell, for most of them seemed perfectly happy to traipse over prominent scent markers without a care in the world, acting as though they had a right to step upon these sacred lands.

Król could only hope that the scars he'd sent them off with as reminders would keep the bolder ones at bay.

So dark were his thoughts that when the howl rang out across the land, Król's first reaction was of anger, stopping dead in his tracks and narrowing his eyes, flattening his ears to his skull. Here he was, trying to work off his anger in a semi-constructive way, and some insolent whelp thought to summon him as though he was nothing more than a common dog and only fuel the fire burning inside of him. Letting out an ill-tempered snarl under his breath, the Thilas spun on his heel and trotted towards the source of the noise, his movements sharp and jerky to convey his simmering anger. Whoever this was had better not feel like wasting his precious time with senseless rambling, or else it was likely that they wouldn't be leaving the encounter in one piece.

It was a female, standing atop one of the rock formations and looking rather stoic for one who was standing upon claimed territory. To any other male she likely would have been gorgeous- with a deep red and brown coat, and eyes of the deepest emerald- but to Król she was just another pretty face in the crowd, another thing to be toyed with until he grew tired of her. Whether she'd be smarter and more complacent than Nemesis and that cowering little bitch Saul had claimed had yet to be seen, but either way the Tundra brute was certainly not impressed with his first sight of this would-be summoner. He drew up in front of her, his lip curled in a derisive sneer and his eyes narrowed into burning orange slits as he spoke in his gravelly undertone.

"State your name and your business upon Sethos lands, and do it quickly, before I lose my patience." His tail gave an ill-tempered lash behind him as if to prove his point, and when he spoke again his voice was almost eerily calm, as if he was deliberately trying to hold himself back before he did something that he would end up regretting. "If you have no business here, I would suggest turning back and heading in the direction you came from. You're already a hell of a lot farther into these lands than you need to be, and this is no place to be seeking cheap thrills." He raised his head then, letting her get a good look of his wicked scars as his sneer turned into a wicked smile. "I would be more than happy to give you a demonstration on just what happens to thrill-seekers around here."

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The female's face was impassive as he stepped up, but Król did not miss the flash of amusement that briefly flickered in her gaze- so much so that his eyes narrowed into unimpressed orange slits as she put on a clearly fake weak facade to try and appeal to his better nature. Tricky bitch. What the fuck does she think this is, a soap opera? He could care less what she thought of him and his attempts to intimidate her, or of his tendency to let his emotions take rein over his daily actions. If she honestly thought it would be wise to challenge him, this pathetic bitch had another thing coming. He hadn't become the Thilas of Sethos for shits and giggles, after all. He had earned his position because of how formidable he was, how skilled he was in the art of intimidation and combat.

That she held a good two inches over him in height mattered little to Król. He had fought opponents larger than himself before, and should the female continue to try testing his patience he would show her no mercy.

His ire only increased once she switched from a meeker personality to a much more confident one, scoffing under his breath as she told him a story that would have been slightly unbelievable even if it hadn't been for her sub-par acting skills. Did she think that he was a weak-minded individual, who could be won over by thrilling tales and thinly-veiled manipulation? If so, she was about to get quite the surprise. "If your ability to act was as good as your ability to spin a tale, I'd let you waltz right in," Król intoned, rolling his brilliantly orange eyes. "Unfortunately, that is not the case. Perhaps you should have drowned, rather than waltz into territory that is clearly claimed as if you own it. Now be gone, or else I will be glad to show you what happens to foolish bitches who decide to linger where they're not welcome."

He spun on his heel and began to stalk away, fully expecting that the female would stick to her word of leaving once it was clear that she was no longer welcome. In Król's mind, she had wasted quite enough of his precious time that could have been spent patrolling the lands for other dolts like her, and he was not keen on spending any more time than he had to around a wolf who thought it was best to greet him with thinly-veiled challenges. The bitch should consider herself lucky that his mood hadn't soured quite enough for him to take offense to her bold nature, or else she'd be singing quite a different tune than the tune she was currently- one involving much more blood and gore.

It was only her next set of words that made the Tundra brute pause, swiveling and pricking his ears to make certain that he'd heard her right. She wanted to...join the ranks of Sethos? Join a pack full of monsters, full of the scum of society? Król slowly swiveled towards her again, willing the confusion to stay out of his gaze as his expression warped into a more stoic one. He had never been met with this kind of situation before, after all, and as the second-in-command of the pack it was his duty to ensure that the female knew what she was getting herself into. Females in Sethos, from what he understood, rarely if ever gained any kind of rank, being seen more as sex objects than anything else. Was that really the life this strange girl wanted?

"You must truly be daft, to want to call this place home," he muttered out, shaking his massive head back and forth as though the thought honestly pained him. "Sethos is not a pack for the faint of heart, girl, nor is it one where you can gain rank easily. You will likely join as part of a harem, or not at all." His eyes narrowed again as his brilliantly orange gaze met her green, an emotion somewhere between a silent question and a challenge dancing in those orange orbs. "For that matter, what makes you think you're worthy of joining Sethos? What skills can you possibly bring to us that would separate you from the millions of other weaklings that wander through these lands?" Other than her rather pathetic attempts at manipulation, but Król chose to keep such a thought to himself, instead choosing to stand there impassively as he awaited any semblance of a reply.

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My acting skills must be as good as your intimidation skills, she had droned out. As if he needed the opinion of some flea-bitten bitch to tell him how to live his life. As if he honestly gave two shits about what she thought of him. The very idea that she may have thought those words would have any effect on him was enough to draw a chuckle out of Król, rolling up from his chest like some great wave rising onto the shore before quickly subsiding. "How foolish of you. You seem to think that I actually give two shits about your opinion," he droned out, flicking one fiery orange ear in absent-minded amusement. ""Though it seems you've finally learned how to talk to someone without hiding behind a mask. Color me fucking surprised. Maybe, if you work hard enough, you'll actually be able to surpass the intelligence of every other flea-bitten mongrel that wanders through these lands." Given the almost casual tone of his voice, one could have hardly believed that he'd been genuinely infuriated with this strange new company only a few moments prior.

And indeed, it was hard to believe that this wispy little creature had inspired feelings of rage in him at all. She clearly thought she was some kind of special snowflake, who deserved to have every privilege in life handed to her on a fucking silver platter- in fact, Król highly doubted that she'd even had to work for anything in her entire life. Quite frankly, she was becoming something of a bore to him, to the point where he was hardly even considering the idea of where she'd fit into the ranks of Sethos. He thought that neither Saul nor Far would likely appreciate her attempts to hide behind some insipid little act to get where she wanted in life, as bold as the two of them were, and Król himself personally thought that her ego needed to be knocked down a peg or two. Which had the potential of sounding quite hypocritical, coming from him, but the Tundra brute either didn't notice or simply didn't care about the comparison being made.

If she continued to test him, however, she would find that gods bled just as willingly as any other wolf.

And indeed, she would continue to foolishly pick at him, turning away as if she was honestly going to be permitted to leave after all she had said. Król let an irritated growl roll out from the pits of his stomach, his orange eyes flashing as he called out in his gravelly undertone. "I was indeed listening. But all I heard was that you are a healer, a skill which can be easily learned by every other inbred mongrel walking through these lands. You are not, in fact, some kind of special fucking snowflake, no matter how much you try to delude yourself into thinking otherwise." He began to slowly stalk towards her, closing the gap between them as more words escaped from between his gritted teeth. "Either you fix that fucking attitude of yours and realize that the only role you're going to get within Sethos is a breeder or a slave, or you can drag that flea-bitten carcass of yours elsewhere and see if another, weaker alpha actually accepts the bullshit you spew as fact."

All this time he had gradually crept closer, winding his way through the landscape like the fin of a shark cutting through the waters of the ocean. Król came to a halt suddenly, his eyes wandering over the female's frame to look for any signs of weaknesses as he growled out one last set of words. "As it stands, I think your ego could stand to be deflated." With that, he was rushing forward, looking for all the world like he was about to launch an attack at the female's exposed back, either to clasp her to him in a cruel mockery of a lover's embrace and savage her or to push all of his weight onto her and flatten her into the dirt- at least until he swerved at the last minute, teeth aiming for the delicate flesh of her shoulder while one paw came up to wrap over and around her shoulders. If either of his attacks hit, he would shove with all of his weight, hoping to topple her into the dirt and fuck her like the whore that she was.

Failing that, he could at least settle for ripping some holes in that pretty little pelt of hers. Why not make the bitch's face match her personality?

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There she went again, spouting off nonsense and casual small talk as if he was honestly listening to any of the drivel that came out of her mouth. This smarmy bitch had seemingly not learned the lesson of knowing when to talk and when to keep her mouth shut and let her actions speak for her, but it was a lesson that Król would be more than happy to teach her, should she rise to the challenge that he had placed before her. He cut her words off with a loud yawn in that moment, snapping his jaws shut with a muffled thud as if he was trying to drown out the noises escaping from her lips. "Once again, you underestimate my ability to not give a single shit about whatever drivel you seem to constantly spout," he drawled, flicking an ear as if to further convey his disinterest. "Word of advice- leave the talking to people who actually sound educated." His voice was full of venom as he stood there, clearly conveying what Król thought of the situation.

Any sense of fascination that he might have felt towards the female in front of him was quickly abolished, at this point. It was time for this bitch's face to start matching her personality, in his mind.

Król wanted to be surprised over the fact that the bitch at least had enough brainpower to know to swerve away from him as he began his attack, but he felt nothing towards his current company anymore- not even rage. She was simply another ant that needed to be crushed into the dust, simply another trespasser that needed to be chased out of the premises or bloodily mutilated until she got the message. He would not bring something as inhibiting as emotions into this, not when he had been allowed to show the reactions the girl desperately wanted out of him already. The Thilas would stain the rocky crags around them with her blood, rip out her throat and gouge out her eyes, and only then would he allow himself the luxury of a satisfied smile.

She scrabbled under him, clearly trying to reach an angle where she might be able to go after the flesh on his underbelly, and that could not be allowed. Król rapidly dove to the side- instead of forward, as the female wanted- and released his target for the span of a split second, allowing her to get to her feet if she so wished. She would not get far, for almost as soon as she tried to rise Król would be on top of her again, either flattening her into the dirt with his immense weight or grabbing one of her legs and wrenching her to the side, causing her to fall again. The force of either action taken would likely be great enough to break or at least sprain the delicate tissue and bone within, something which would surely assist Król in his goal of delaying the girl's escape for as long as possible. She was his prey now, and the Tundra brute did not relinquish ownership of his prey so easily.

They'd see how well she ran on broken limbs.