The Heartwood No one seems to keep

Alduin hears commotion along their borders. Short, spotted auds swivel to determine the direction, but he does not rush himself. No, the brindled beast moves at a brisk walk, massive head level with a straight back, tail curled at his hip and bobbing softly.

And when the hellhound finally approaches, he sees two familiars — his Oracle and Harbinger — yet the third seems to be one of the unknown. Though at first glance once might think a civil conversation leads their tongues, but a growl resonates within his ears as well. There is no civility in The Forsaken — no, there is only the damned and those worth of their judgment. Which one shall this one be? Alduin wonders.

So with heavy, lumbering steps, the massive hellhound stalks forth to step beside his forsaken Harbinger, slyly slinking up behind him and brushing his side agaisnt the other male’s hip before stopping closer beside him. Crimson eyes flick over, down down down to the silver eyed female pressed to his chest with the same familiarity he looks at Dreven with. 

Only then do bloody pools for eyes rake over the stranger woman’s coat — full, peppered with blacks and silvers. He makes a show of looking her up and down, head to tail. Only just hearing her last words,

Passing around, I was thinking of heading north. That is the truth.

Ah. So a passerby. He concludes, but says nothing as Dreven speaks once more.

North? And what is it that you are wandering and searching for, shadow?

Alduin wonders the same thing, but remains silent. His gaze heavy and tantalizing as he watches the woman with the dark confidence of a thousand suns.

And then, Khasni’s velvety voice fills his ears. Why continue? Why not settle?  Are the tail end of her words. She begins to move forth too, sniffing and circling, surely this would unease this stranger. 

Good. Testing boundaries is something Alduin approves of, but although Khasni’s words hold a venomous threat, her small, feminine frame does not. Well, at least not in the way his own does.

It’s then Alduin decides that he has had enough back and forth — enough teasing and tiptoeing. 

“You — stranger.” He rumbles with a rasping and guttural voice. “This talk is pointless, teeth are more useful here.” He adds darkly, following in his Oracle’s steps, but snapping dangerous jaws at the smaller woman’s hocks from a distance as a nonverbal sign to back off. Where he would fall into step in front of their newly found company.

“Do you wish to pass. Or do you wish to find out more of this land — of the forsaken that reside here.” He moves straight to the point. “Choose wisely.” He purrs afterwards, eyes dark yet light with a touch of sadistic entertainment painting his eyes.

Yes… Alduin hisses internally, manically. Choose wisely…

For her decision may mean life or death.