 |  | He'd spent so much time in the neutrals, lately. Learning, hunting, exploring. There was so much land here. So much life.
For so long, all he had known was death and sand. It was a part of him still, and it always would be--blood, sand, pain. Heartbreak.
No one would love him now that he was a monster. That was fine by him; monsters didn't need love. Ares and Lyssa had seen his grief and blessed him with a rage that burned, steadily larger, in the core of who he was. No one would ever take what was his again. He was more, now. Not whole--he would never be whole--but a purpose sat heavily upon his shoulders and guided him.
Augustus had little time for affairs of the heart. Many of the inhabitants were pairing up, mating off, birthing litters of anklebiters for a new generation to succeed. He watched them from afar, the happy little families, all so... boring. So complacent.
Lilac sky eyes turned and met those of a wolf, black and white and brilliant red, in the middle distance. He recognized the look of him--that of a fighter, someone who'd fought tooth and claw for everything he had. His eyes narrowed even as respect grew, quietly, inside him.
This wolf was not like the others, either. He was shaped differently--a subspecies, perhaps.
Augustus stood from his comfortable spot in the sun at the top of a rolling grassy hill, and made his way towards the male, his posture not altogether friendly, but not outwardly hostile.
"Χαλάζι," He murmured, internally sighing as the familiar word rolled off his tongue. That kingdom was gone, he reminded himself; he'd been the one to burn it to the ground. "Hello," He said instead, stopping short of the wolf. You have the air of a gladiator." Perhaps even a King-- "I'm Augustus. Where do you hail from?"
Not everyone would be as willing to tell such things as Augustus was--he would proudly boast the destruction of his previous pride, if it could be called that--and he wouldn't be offended if the man didn't want to speak of it. Loose lips sink ships, as they say.
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