The wind plucked at Danya’s fur, filling it with sea salt and ocean spray. He was a little way away from the Iverness, for now. He had left Aurelia with a task to do, a simple task he felt she were capable of, and had decided to explore a little further around the area that they had settled in and decided to claim as their home. Perhaps Danya himself was out looking for more mystery women to bring into his clutch, to have as a resource for his business. He had left his one and only courtesan – at the moment, at least – with enough food for two days, before he’d set off. In his mind still rested the memories of the fight he’d had with the thieving bitch of a black-pelted woman. Her crimson eyes still danced in the back of his mind as she’d stolen away with the two hares he’d caught that day, while he floundered unceremoniously in the rivers of the Iverness.
How fucking pathetic it had been.
To lose to a woman, and a child at that.
Clearly the First had not smiled fondly upon him that day, and it made Danya realized that he had not given a sacrifice to his god in some time. Perhaps he should bow to his own god and be piteous for a little bit. But that would be a task for another day, perhaps before his next hunt. Or he would aim for three and offer up one of whatever he caught to the Iverness’ current, so that it would be carried to the First, in whatever Tundra he still called home. And that was highly assuming he hadn’t frowned upon Danya’s natal pack and destroyed them all. Perhaps he had escaped some type of fate that – no. No, no. The man paused in his walking, his wandering, and shook his head. Lazarus would have never let such a thing happen to the Imperatoria name. Danya twitched an ear at the thought of the white-pelted bastard.
’That mother fucker,’ he thought, giving a small growl. The man had been the whole reason Danya had left in the first place. The goddamned tyrant that he was, the man wouldn’t be surprised if others had followed suit. Although, he couldn’t help but wonder just
what had happened to his family so far away.
It, in all honesty, was of no importance, however much he wondered about them from time to time. The man had to live in what was the ‘now,’ rather than the past. He had a job to do, and a business to get off the ground.
Closer to the shoreline of the place he was now, the man saw movement. Curious, he wandered forward, wondering if perhaps it was someone, he could either assimilate into his business, or a possible client for the future. As he drew closer, he called out.
”Hello there.” His accent was thick upon his simple words.
- you know that it's not over -
