RP between Hekate and Slaughter House. Do not post unless your name is in the title but you are very much so allowed to read along! Thank you :)

☰☰☰☰☰☰☰☰

When an abnormal canine joins Nazeera's empire. The apprehension rises — canines dwell sleepless and ramble amongst the campsite inquisitive. But with Abaddon's docile nature, the skepticism eventually dwindles. But Nazeera, befriending this brute knew that his sinister intent was far wronger than his silver tongue.

Characters:

Hekate - Nazeera (Female)

Slaughter House - Abaddon (Male)

''Oh please, I'm just...desperate at this point on.''

The brute, with a guttural coo, responded to the majesty abiding in front of him. Abaddon was self-assured, so far. He felt at ease and accepted even if the wolves spew questions that sounded so troubling to answer, but Abaddon answered truthfully nonetheless. And his replies seemed to appease the canines surrounding him. ''You seem strong, I am greatly stirred by your size,'' The wolf concluded with a scan of his eyes. He was piqued and charmed by Abaddon's physique.

''I am very bewitched by your words, sir. I appreciate it.'' Abaddon with a gleeful and mild chortle responded. He was sure that his palliative aura despite his appearance brought some solace to the bystanders since from the start, the petrified, tense gazes became relaxed and interested. ''What brought you here..To this kingdom..'' Abaddon's gaze reeled back to the canine in front of him, pupils dilating at his face turn solemn. Back at it with the questions...Abaddon tutted, though responded. ''The fragrances. I became piqued so, I wanted to investigate, haha..'' His retort made the wolf nod in a brisk bob before the lupine lingering beside him chimed in. ''You have a scar on your thigh. Isn't that the scar that the Bloodhorn wolves have..'' Fatuous wolf. Abaddon mused a bit but coolly replied. ''It is..'' His cranium turned to the canine suddenly perking up on his left, its audits fluttering by Abaddon's riposte. ''However, the empire. Caught a disease, of some sort.'' Abaddon's face contorted, feigning mere dismay. ''And, the majority of them perished, some lived and fled. Like me.'' He turned back to the emperor, nose flaring in a disenchanted exhale. ''I hope you aren't bearing the illness here to us..Because if so, I will-'' As the emperor tried to forewarn Abaddon, Abaddon's chuckle halted his sentence. ''Don't be ridiculous. An acute canine like me couldn't fetch the illness.'' Abaddon reassured and smiled, reasonably, his protruding, keen tusks flashing in the dull sunshine.

''Hmph, I'm glad then.'' The emperor didn't seem prone to foreigners cutting off his forewarnings, but Abaddon couldn't bear to hear the blabbering gibberish boggle his mind, he just wanted this examination to end as soon as possible. ''Then if that's so. I'll question you later on. I have duties to give out so- You'll be guided to your cove, by the beta, Nazeera.'' And that's when Abaddon's own audits fluttered, some excitement wafting off of his movements. Yet, his excitement soonly diminished when a female...entered the scene. Ravishing as ever, with a prevalent glint that bristled his fur to flex upright.

''Her?''

Nazeera, with an arch of her eyebrows, studied the brute conversate with her packmates and of course, her emperor. Who does he think he is...He seems so restful in this ambiance, not even frightened of the leverage that this empire harbors. And the laughter that he proposed throughout the time they uttered, irked Nazeera's flesh. This mystifying canine definitely seemed like a charlatan, a dupe that just knew how to defraud the ones below him. A forsaken clown that got severed from its circus...what a failure. Though, as Nazeera approached them, the audible exchange became even more transparent and his voice, like a thunderstorm in a night lanced through her ears. ''Don't be ridiculous. An acute canine like me couldn't fetch the illness.'' Nazeera snorted, irises settling on the brute chortle so haughtily in the emperor's face. He's complacent too.

Nazeera puffed out a breath though jostled midst her strides when the emperor mentioned her. The gazes Nazeera received weren't super appealing, especially his. And the glint of chaste excitement made her crumple her snout, which indicated clear signs of belligerence and loathe for his presence. ''Nazeera. This is our pupil, Abaddon.'' The emperor introduced him. And Nazeera out of courtesy bobbed her cranium, peeling back her irises at his looming figure residing in the spot. Such a dreadful presence...Her mind reeled as her throat rumbled. ''Yes. It's a pleasure to encounter the pupil,'' The feigning enthusiasm sounded phony and her face seemed the same; apathetic. Nazeera didn't desire to give out her sentiments to this jester, at all. He was too abnormal for her liking and taste. ''Then you may guide him away. But after that, return to my cove. I'll have a mission readied for you.'' With that, the emperor meandered by, his taut physique grazing past hers.

He didn't seem gladdened. Even if he was sort of exhilarated at the start — Nazeera thought, before her gaze shrank. And settled on the canine that arose like a devastating nightmare. ''Don't envision receiving any princess treatment.'' Her voice resonated in an augury as her figure recoiled. ''I'll treat you like an amateur, without any inquiries asked. You're just a mere outsider to me,'' Nazeera resumed blabbering her directions, heading straight to the cove that was deserted and vacant for ages. It was distanced from hers and the ones that he could ridicule, further in the back of the campsite that everyone sidestepped. It was an opaque, dreary cavern with mere luminescent rays from the cerulean crystals protruding from the splintered ceiling. He should enjoy that.

''And by all means and due consideration. Don't try anything humorous in this motherland. We aren't super pardoning for mess-ups stirred by someone like you,'' Nazeera whisked her irises to the brute, the reflective dazzle flaunting her foreboding, and mere nuisance.

As Abaddon observed the damsel muster to the superior, his pair of blackish slits narrowed at her flagrant aggravation strew all over her face. But her voice woven with the raw baritone charm kittled his sides and made him snort rather chestily. ''Hah...Princess treatment..''He reiterated though masked it with a sneer of his own. ''I'd prefer to be treated like a soldier. Like a general...please,'' His request sounded compelling, maybe on the provocative underline as his gaze weaved through the faes sashaying figure up front.

She was an indomitable shell, a mistress caved by fury and disdain for him, which Abaddon couldn't be more ecstatic for. He found it witty and so, drawing on the unwavering and deadpanned damsel. ''But I'm more than a nonnative to you now. I'm a part of your brood,'' He retorted since the conversation tumbled silent whilst they strolled. And he wanted to needle this fae more, see if she could submit to her wrath. ''You should call me by my name or by my given position.'' He purred, fulfillment and entertainment drubbing all over his tone of voice, and his marred, exhilarated face. He purposefully sought to ford the boundaries of his, supposed guide. See how her character gradually crumples in the hands of his own, how her face would contort into anger, and her figure curvet into a defensive stance.

''And by all means and due consideration. Don't try anything humorous in this motherland—Abaddon tittered breathily once again, withdrawing back a mischievous growl that rumbled down his throat like a waterfall. It was compelling to know that this circumstance he now resided in, was factual. And all of the sentiments the fae shared with him were also very genuine. And because of that, he couldn't disarray his technique, and mess up all the consideration he put into the undertaking he sat for several months.

''If you think of me so poorly, you're quite mistaken.'' Abaddon mused, his figure hastening up to reach the tempo of the dame.

''Soldier..''

Nazeera sibilated under her torrid breath, as her left audit folded to her skull in a mere flare of light. Soldier...Her stomach drummed with a gnarr that accrued to her inured chest and up to her throat. ''You're nothing but a sinner. You shouldn't have this echelon to your name...I know you and you're murderous vindictive ways,'' Her tone of voice, stifled, her contralto grumble altered into a murmur as her figure inched to his; face to face, noses almost touching.

Nazeera's golden threaded irises bore into his, webbed with raw chagrin and unearthing with luculent veracity. Her growl laced into a grunt, ''If you're here, to harm one of us, I will sicken you for the remnant of your existence,'' Her words sounded like a pact as her gaze didn't lurch from his, the solemnity seething like a wildfire in a barren forestry. ''You Bloodhorn wolves are all the same...driven by redress and thirst for blood,'' Her flare of breaths came freckling the warlock's face as her figure drew back. Nazeera said enough or at last, said what was borne on her heart; the verity. Or the verity that Nazeera supposed. But the Bloodhorn wolves were frauds of one another, driven by fresh corruption and governed by abhorrence. So Nazeera didn't foresee this one to be any different; his appearance gave the very last verdict Nazeera considered. He was a ghoul shrouded in a wolf's fur.

''I will tell each and everything I know of you to my emperor, so don't try to be someone you are not,'' With a last, viperish forewarning, Nazeera averted her gaze. There were too many witnesses swarming around in the patent place they abode, so it was best to part the proximity and continue on what Nazeera was ordered with; reveal him his cove. And so Nazeera did.

But with a little murmur of profanities, her audit quivered. And her dour, adamant voice cooed. ''You...Will reside here, for as long as the emperors want you to.'' Her figure spun as her irises met the brute once again. ''You can get as chummy as you want in here but bide unbothersome to the bordering coves. Do not taunt them or endeavor to,'' Her tone didn't stall and her gaze, like usual, dwelt the same; assertive and prevalent. Nazeera just liked to show off that her nature was not to be fiddled with. ''And, of course. You are very so permitted to adorn your cove, to your liking. If...you remain in the brood.'' Nazeera emphasized the ''if'' with a slant of her lips, as her frontal dandy fangs flashed out. ''Your rules will be given by my emperor. If you have any queries, don't dribble them to me.'' Her gaze dawdled ahead, to the campsite, the foreboding motherland that the empire wolves wandered on. ''And appreciate your ephemeral stay, mutt,'' Nazeera spat before she stormed off.