company [Krol]

[attr="class","pltxt"]
Król had been dreaming.

This, in and of itself, was not exactly a rare occurrence. The Tundra brute often had visions of his past victories in his sleep, where he swore that he could almost taste blood upon his tongue again as his conjured-up teeth tore into the pelts of those that dared to stand against him. He could claim that it had been a dream that had sent him to Sethos in the first place, for a few scarce days before he had met Saul and Far in the canyon on the Isles he had had a vision of sorts, about a wolf who was always hidden in shadow but had one defining feature in the form of those eerily blue eyes. When he had seen those same eyes staring back at him in the form of Saul, he had instantly known that this was the calling he had been destined for.

But this dream had not been one that was welcome in any way. This one contained visions he would rather have left buried- of his father and the cruel mistreatment he had been met with at the older male's hand, of his weakling of a mother, who had either been too cowardly to stop the abuse or had simply not cared. Of Jewel, her wit and charm, the way she had still believed that there was good inside his heart even as his teeth had clenched around her throat, even as he forcefully filled her with his seed. It had taken all of his willpower to not wake up from said dream screaming, and even now he swore he could still taste iron on his tongue, still feel a lingering sense of shame and horror over what he had done.

They were not feelings that Król had wanted to dwell on, which had led to him stalking through the caverns, his orange eyes glittering in the darkness like twin candles as his claws beat out a staccato rhythm upon the stone floor beneath. He was not going to trouble Saul or Far over such a dream, for he highly doubted that they would know or even care about what his life had been like before he had joined the ranks of Sethos. Instead he would stick to his tried and true method of ignoring the problem, running himself ragged in his attempts to run from his demons. Król desperately wished he had Nemesis nearby to treat as a punching bag for even a few moments, but it seemed that she had fled to the four winds as of late, leaving him woefully without anything to take his frustrations out on.

But who he saw when he turned the corner was the next best thing. The quiet hello that came to his ears confirmed her identity, even before her silver pelt and blue eyes came into view. It was Selene, the pathetic little bitch that Saul had seen fit to spare from his wrath, for whatever godforsaken reason. Król's ire only seemed to rise once she came into his line of vision, to the point that a thunderous growl rumbled from the pits of his stomach as he rigidly approached her. He hated everything about the petite little female- her innocent and trusting nature, how she refused to abandon Sethos even when it was clear that the pack was full of nothing but monsters, how she lingered in a place where she clearly wasn't welcome.

Most importantly, he hated that she seemed to symbolize the potential to do good that he still had buried within him.

So it was that Król stalked up to her, an irritable scowl pinned onto his face as he stood there. "Saul's little bitch reveals herself," he sneered, lips curled back over his impressive canines. "Why aren't you with your master, little lamb? Or better yet, why didn't you run off with your pathetic excuse for a sister while you had a chance?" His eyes glimmered with hatred and thinly veiled disgust, and his tail gave an ill-tempered lash behind him. "Surely you must know that a weakling like you could never belong here. Why Saul deemed it fit to spare you, I do not know, but someone like you has no place among a pack of monsters."

[attr="class","pltxt"]
She tried valiantly to hide it, but Król could see the flash of sheer terror that went through Selene's gaze for a split-second, and it filled him with a sadistic kind of glee. After spending so long meeting wolves that either did not take him seriously or underestimated his abilities, it was a nice change of pace to see that he could still truly inspire fear in someone. Especially someone like Saul's little whore, such a polar opposite of her more volatile sister in personality that it was initially hard to believe that the two of them were even related. The Tundra brute would have liked to take his frustrations out on Nemesis, in that moment- for he had had hopes that he would be able to dampen her spirit with enough savage beatings- but seeing as she appeared to have fled to the four winds, Selene would be as good of a chew toy as any. Saul would surely have his head if he laid so much as the tip of a claw on her, but Król knew well enough to realize that you didn't necessarily have to touch a wolf to make them bleed.

Infuriatingly, Selene was making all the wrong moves- not shying away from him as expected, but instead bowing her head in the perfect submissive gesture, her blue eyes glittering in the darkness as she spoke with a voice that seemed as sweet and pure as honey. It was enough to make Król's ears pin back against his head out of irritation, another wave of disgust sweeping through him before he managed to quell it. Gods above, she was so perfect, and that angered him more than anything else. She was determined to remain here, at the risk of her own life, just to serve some kind of twisted loyalty to Saul and Far, as if she honestly thought that they gave two shits about her well-being. She was so absurdly naive that it was almost nauseating, and Król seemed to convey as much in the next set of words that burst from his lips.

"Duty, you say. As if what you do somehow matters. As if Saul and Far would bat so much as an eye if you dropped dead tomorrow." A derisive snort burst from his maw, his lips curling upward into another hideous sneer. "Your sister was the smart one. She knew to run away when it was clear that the odds weren't in her favor. You, on the other hand, linger in a place where you are not welcome, all so you can attend to whatever sense of honor keeps you rooted here. You are laughably naive, child, and it honestly makes me wonder how in the hell you managed to survive for this long." His words were cold in that moment, taut with barely-suppressed anger, a sharp contrast to the mood that such soft and demure words would normally inspire. But Król was a wolf who had stopped applying reason to any of his actions long ago, and if she thought to quell him through her submissive behavior she was clearly mistaken.

He would have liked to say more, but suddenly her gaze was jerking up to meet his- and suddenly, those eyes looked so familiar that the Tundra brute froze, scarcely remembering how to breathe as he stared into those deep blue pools. Selene seemed to have a gaze that bored right into him, daring to see the potential within him instead of the scum that lurked on the surface, and all of a sudden memories came rushing back before he could keep them at bay. Memories of Jewel. Jewel, who would never harm so much as a fly but who would gladly stand up to another wolf if she felt that their viewpoint was harmful. Jewel, who had not been afraid to call him out on his bullshit, who had taught him to see the beauty in the world again, for however brief of a time. Jewel, who had listened to him and been a dear friend, never straying far from his side.

Jewel with his teeth lodged in her throat, still daring to believe that there was good in him-

His breath came back to him in a sudden rush, and he visibly jolted away from Selene in that moment, his gaze hard and unreadable as he gazed down at her. What had she done to displease him, she asked. Król would have laughed, were it not for the tangle of emotions currently running through his head. What hadn't she done, was the real question. Not only did she infuriate him in every sense of the term, but she was bringing back memories that he'd much rather have buried, reminding him of another wolf who had foolishly tried to believe that there was good in an individual's heart until it had cost her her life. If Selene didn't tread carefully here, she was going to end up the same way as Jewel, and some part of the Tundra brute's heart that wasn't entirely black yet would be damned if he let that happen.

But like hell was he going to let her know about that. Instead he simply huffed under his breath after a moment, finally daring to meet that icy blue stare once again. "You displease me because you go against everything that Sethos stands for. We are savage, you are delicate and poised. And moronic, to boot. How do you know that this way of thinking, these duties of yours, will not ultimately lead to your fate? Why don't you run while you have the chance? It...astounds me," Król concluded, shaking his head back and forth as if to convey his disbelief over such a notion.

Anything to keep her from guessing what he was really feeling.

[attr="class","pltxt"]
He could see the confusion written all over Selene's face as she flinched away from him, her ears falling back against her head despite her clear attempts to control herself. She surely must have thought of him as a beast, a monster, like everyone else did- but she still refused to try and defend herself, something which Król was equal parts bewildered and angered by. For all his vitriol, for all the insults he slung at her in an attempt to drive her away, she stayed and persisted. It almost made him want to be impressed by her nerve, if a part of him was still capable of feeling anything besides all-consuming anger anymore. Did she truly realize just how dangerous her current situation was, how her fate would hang in the balance should Saul ever decide that she was no longer useful to him? Or did she simply not care, or know but not choose to concentrate on the darker details of what was now her life?

Król had to tear himself away from such thoughts as Selene insisted that Nemesis would come back for her eventually, a laugh escaping from his chest before he could help it. "That bitch cares for no one but herself. She detests life among us. If she has fled, she is not coming back. But feel free to believe what you want, little lamb. We'll see who proves to be right in the end." From what little interaction Król had had with the chestnut female, he could tell that she had been strong-willed, stubborn, ready and willing to stick up for what she had thought was right. She had seemed to detest life within Sethos, detest that she had to bow down to those that she held no respect for, and though the Tundra brute had tried his best to beat such rebellious actions out of her she had apparently decided to flee while the going was still good, leaving him without a punching bag and without any females to call his own.

He highly doubted that she would come back just to be part of a harem again, and it stung some small part of him.

"Where would you go?" he repeated, as if incredulous that the question even had to be asked. "To somewhere where you will not be in inherent danger of being turned into carrion should you no longer prove of any use to their superiors, of course. Where you would be safe should Saul decide to come after you. Stupid girl, can you not see how selfish this is? Your lack of self-preservation is going to be your downfall." Król had to fight to keep the mention of Jewel being the same way from escaping his maw at that moment, had to fight to swallow down the grief and shame that was threatening to well up from some buried part of his mind. Showing emotions other than strength, other than righteous anger over filthy half-breeds making their home upon this continent, was to be seen as weakness. And he would not show weakness so easily. Not to this girl, and not to any other member of Sethos. He was the Thilas, and he was going to prove that he was worthy of the position, worthy of being Saul's right-hand man.

But Selene was bringing to the surface memories that he would much rather have buried, and it made the fires of his rage burn bright and hot. At least until she said her next set of words- we are all doing what we must to survive. For a moment, all Król could do was stare in anger and bewilderment at the silvery female, this one who had taken all his expectations of her and stomped all over them, who was foolish yet brave, who was bringing out a side of him that few were lucky enough to ever see. She reminded him so much of Jewel in that moment that it was almost physically painful, and for a moment he had to glance away from those dazzlingly blue eyes, heaving in a breath that was much shakier than he wanted. "This is no life for you," he murmured, his voice uncharacteristically soft as his gaze remained downcast. "This is not surviving."

He turned back to her then, his expression unreadable. "You will stay, even at the risk of your life? Even at the risk of both your physical and mental well-being?" Król gave a mirthless little chuckle then, shaking his massive head back and forth. "It's funny. I knew a wolf like you once. She too believed that everyone had good in them. And for what? She was proven wrong in the end, and you will be too."

[attr="class","pltxt"]
He had not been expecting Selene to stand up for herself, or show any emotion at all other than a cowed kind of submissiveness- so when she actually drew herself up to her full height, daring to spit bold words at him with a steely kind of disdain showing in her gaze, Król would have been lying if he'd said that he was not surprised by the actions. He squinted at the female for a moment, wondering what had happened to the meek bitch that Saul had claimed, wondering when she had decided to finally grow a backbone and stand up to him. Was it because he had insulted her sister, or had she finally decided that she didn't have to take his insults lying down? Or could it be that she had a core of steel deep down inside, much like Jewel had possessed? Either way, the Thilas was not sure whether to feel impressed or infuriated at her nerve as he stared her down, piercing orange staring into blue as both of them silently dared each other to make a move.

And then Król laughed. Throwing his head back, he allowed several loud guffaws to escape from the depths of his gut, echoing around the empty caverns as he dissolved into a fit for the briefest of moments. "So the lamb has developed sharp horns, has she?" he questioned mildly, his tone nowhere near as scathing as it had been before. "If I am a lion, then so be it. But you would do well to remember that this lion still has his claws, little one. Careful you don't get within striking distance." His words were a warning, but they did not hold nearly the weight that they could have, for as her speech had progressed he had gradually grown quieter and quieter, mulling over her words in suspenseful silence. Part of him was irritated at her nerve- part of him wanted to reach out with open jaws, to wrench and clamp and tear at that perfect silver pelt of hers until there was nothing left but bloody scraps- but part of him was reminded of Jewel and how she had been the same way, had the same attitude.

If he'd been one to believe in reincarnation, the Tundra brute would have entertained the idea that she was Jewel in another form, come here to try and show him the error of his ways all too late.

It was only when Selene hesitantly asked if he had been close to the wolf he had mentioned that his heart contracted within his chest, barely even noticing that the silver-pelted female had referred to him by name instead of title as his muscles tightened and his ears pinned flat against his head. A stuttering exhale escaped his chest in that moment, as he felt as if he had been kicked bodily in the chest, not able to get a breath into his lungs no matter what measures he tried to rectify the problem. It was all he could do to keep his eyes from clamping shut as he sat there, trying to shut out the memories that had come rushing in, the images that came swirling to the front of his mind in a numbing wave- Jewel laughing at him with her eyes alight, Jewel sharing some tidbit of herbal knowledge with him, Jewel lying limp underneath him while her blood stained his teeth, the blood he still swore he could taste upon his tongue at times-

Król finally forced himself to speak, though his words sounded thick, coming out as though they were clogged inside his throat. "We were...we were friends, yes," he said quietly, his head turned away so that he would not have to gaze into those eyes that reminded him so much of his old companion. "Maybe more than that." The next set of words were delivered so quietly that even he could scarcely hear them, his gaze fixing on some distant point along the stone walls as he forced his tone to turn sour again. "But she was weak. Weak, and foolish-" And brave, and kind, and brighter than any star I have ever seen shining in the sky. Those were the words that he longed to speak, but his foul mind kept them firmly held inside, his poisoned heart refusing to admit that some small kernel of weakness still existed deep down inside of him.