Mount Apikuni go among the lost

lucifer’s ears flicked back at the sound of approaching steps, but he did not turn immediately. instead, he stood motionless, ashen gold eyes fixed on the jagged horizon, his breath curling in ghostly wisps against the winter air.  

at the single word—haunting—spoken by the newcomer, a smirk ghosted across lucifer’s lips. slowly, he turned his head, his gaze settling on the large wolf who had emerged from the shadows. there was no fear in his stance, only a quiet curiosity mingled with the faintest glint of amusement.  

ah, sì, haunting, he echoed, his voice a low purr that carried easily through the cold. this mountain wears its scars like a crown. a reminder of all it has endured. his tone was smooth, almost conversational, though there was an edge to his words that hinted at something deeper.  

lucifer’s eyes roved over the stranger with a deliberate slowness, taking in the similarities to viskani—the sharp features, the imposing stature, the intensity in his gaze. sei suo figlio, he said, tilting his head slightly, his expression unreadable. you are her son. the resemblance is unmistakable.

his smirk widened as he took a step closer, his movements calculated but unthreatening. tell me, ragazzo, what is your name?