Hideaway Strath brazier

ramesses, languishing below, considered trading what little he had learned of his time elsewhere in exchange for more aplomb. he had sensed a greater network of interpack relations upon the coast, rather than was at the strath. but he could not assume that kynareth was unaware of what happened outside his strong borders. the man fancied himself a warlord, after all.
this season there would be no chance to ingratiate himself by more sensual means; every woman of merit was already claimed by fertility. 
ramesses stretched, unaware that more life had been welcomed into the territory. he set off to find himself a meal, which was to check a cache first and hunt afterward. pharaoh did not believe in expending himself when there was no need.

Kynareth’s nose catches one of their newest members scents. Ramesses is his name, the one that stumbled into their home drugged out of his mind, spouting nonsense about gods and such. The thought makes the brindled man laugh as he moves to trail his scent. 

Eventually the man finds him meandering about one of their caches and he grins. Trotting up to him he greets the other with a curt nod and a “Hungry, peaches?” Moving to slot himself beside him. “How about we go hunt ourselves a fresh kill?” He offers despite this unknown knowledge that Ramesses doesn’t want to expend effort to hunt unless he needs to. The hunt excites Kyn and he’d go on one every day if he needed to.

since @Nyra had made him ironic slave to @Aerin, pharaoh had presumably been kept busy despite his ironic belief. but he had also flouted it, and this would be a punishment — if he was discovered.
however, it was the grandmaster who discovered him careless of step, and ramesses dipped his head in the obeisance that had maddeningly become familiar. "i was given as a slave to the priestess," he said softly, studying the grains of earth between his bathed front paws. "shall i see about her needs before we go off, noble one?"
he kept himself downturned and neutral, but in truth pharaoh wanted a guarantee for his worth. nyra was nowhere to be found. only himself and kynareth here, and ramesses curved into a respectful pose that made him surge with fury inside his own chest.

WHOOPS accidentally posted as Santi LOL

I was given as a slave to the Priestess. Kyn’s brows furrow and his expression becomes pensive. Shall I see about her needs before we go off, noble one? His brows furrow further. 

“What?” He asks blandly. A dry, humorless laugh follows. 

Who the fuck said that? ‘Cause he sure as hell didn’t. So immediately he wonders who gave him the order to slave for the pale wolfdog. Had to have either been Simmik, Derg, or Nyra. He can’t see Derg or Simmik doing it and with the right words or actions he could see Nyra doing such a thing. He has to make sure though.

“And who the fuck told you that?” He asks with hardly concealed distain.

Jumping in on this as well lol fuck timelines :>

 



The Overseer was out and about, at least for a moment. As heavily as she fretted about her daughter, the Queen was getting anxiety about not making appearances every blue moon until Lotus was old enough to leave the den. 

She catches the tail end of Kynareth's displeased tones after Ramesses had, she assumed, told him what had transpired. 

Or some of it at least. 

So, her own tones ring out in matter-of-fact admittance. 
"I did." 

Soon enough her equally massive form comes into view. Nyra stands a few feet away, already feeling her guilt and worry rise for her daughter. She should have stayed with Lotus she was out here too long she should have never left the den--

"When Aerin and myself came across him digging a den for himself, no problem with that, Ramesses admitted he usually had slaves do the work he was doing. When Aerin shared her origins, it appeared to me that he was disgusted to know that she held more rank than himself." Nyra took a deep, slow breath before continuing; "I admit I reacted rashly. I find myself rather close in friendship with Aerin, and I acknowledge that my assumptions may not be the truth of the matter." She paused for a moment to breathe again. 

Nyra then turned to the ex-royal "Ramesses. I revoke the orders I gave you surrounding our Priestess, you may return to your regular duties without worry. I apologize for my outburst." 
The Overseer then looked to Kynareth. Was he satisfied? 
She knew revoking her orders probably didn't make everything right as rain again, but she leveled her co-leader with a gaze that showed genuine remorse for her misuse of authority.

surprise coursed the boy-king as kynareth spoke, rattled with a dry disdain for what nyra had chosen. while his face remained downturned, inwardly glee was replacing blood within his veins. it had been a wise gambit, mentioning the scarred little slave.
there was not time to speak again before the aforementioned overseer, fat with her children, arrived among them.
glee turned to abject euphoria as she granted him an apology.
at last ramesses lifted his head. while he was mindful that both his leaders stood before him, and the pale woman liable to show teeth again, as she had done twice in his time with the saints, his inner thought was mollified.
"i am of far greater service to you than as a servant, divine ones," ramesses said softly. "before i came to you, i lived in yuelong. i am willing to tell what knowledge i was granted there — in exchange for something more than underling."
pharaoh stood fast. kynareth and nyra had come to odds over him, and he meant to wield this. but they also worked as one entity, and this might end with his death or yet another exile.
Amun was silent.

Kynareth’s still awed by what Nyra had apparently done. He wonders what Aerin thinks of such a thing. Regarding her own past as a slave, he would assume she would never want one in the first place. Though right when he’s about to speak once more he feels another presence and Nyra’s voice meets his ears.

I did. 

He turns towards her expectantly, desiring an explanation. She wastes no time in giving him one. He listens with a pensive expression, taking in all the details. Kynareth’s past is full of all types of fucked up things. Though he doesn’t lead with an iron fist, his father did. They too had slaves. Those same slaves were always ones from enemy packs that they nabbed after they ransacked and brutally killed half of them. His father didn’t give two shits about them and would often allow the pack to bait them in arena events. He only feels sympathy for Aerin because he values her, those who aren’t close to him could rot in hell for all he cares. 

So, after she apologizes, he turns to Ramesses and his ears swivel in his direction when Yuèlóng rolls off his tongue. He smirks for a second.

Though he’s not that quick to dismiss Nyra, so he turns back to her. “I also consider Aerin a friend, though I don’t condone enslaving one of our own.” His face is careless and rather casual as he says his next words. “My father also had slaves and better yet, we’d rip them apart for fucking fun. It is a way of his past life. Not the life he has now. It will not happen again.” 

With that he turns to Ramesses. “You,” He hums casually easily. “will not show disrespect for Aerin in any way. I do agree that you’re more useful as something other than a slave and I take you up on your offer for a promotion in return for information on Yuèlóng. They’re our enemy as of right now.” Then he smiles sadistically. “I couldn’t give a fuck about them, but they seem persistent on getting rid of us. Now go ahead, don’t be shy.” He urges for the information with a tilt of his chin at him.

Exit for Nyra so she can get back to Lotus!

 


Nyra nods once to her co-lead's words. As Kynareth then directs the spotlight to Ramesses, the Empress nudges Donovan's shoulder 

"Catch me up on the information he gives when you get a chance? I need to get back to my daughter." 

With a brief lick to her fellow alpha's cheek, Nyra turns and takes off at a brisk trot. Her form is soon gone, back to where she said she'd be.

ramesses sauntered his gaze toward nyra. she was returning to her child.
he dipped his pristine crown in a low obeisance, and when she had gone, turned back to kynareth.
"empress hua has stepped down. she leaves the captain of her guard, aiolos, in command of yuelong. she has taken up the role and the name of a skilled commoner."
"a man has come from a forest pack. he brought his people to join with her own. yuelong is large and filled with children, but they are not warriors. i left them and went to follow a holy prophet and his daughter for a time, but they went off. in pursuit of their god. without the empress' influence upon yuelong, they will be aimless."
the lapis eyes glowed with a deep and rich pleasure. "if what i have said pleases you, noble one, then reward me as you would a faithful saint."
kynareth's words upon aerin had not gone unheard, and ramesses pondered them with inward resistance. how could his worth be seen if a slave was above him? the grandmaster must see the worth of pharaoh.

Kyn feels the bump to his shoulder and the sweet goodbye of Nyra’s tongue taking a brief lap at his cheek. A twitch of a smile shows and he nods his head to her curtly as his own goodbye. 

Turning his attention solely on Ramesses, his golden orbs glow bright with interest at the words he speaks. Though he expected useful information, he didn’t expect so much of it. The brindled brute can’t help the wicked grin that crosses over his maw. So the high empress of the sea is now civilian trash? He likes the sound of that. He’d be sure to rub her loss of power in her face next time he sees her. That is, if he ever sees her. Which he truly hopes he does. He’d love to see the anger swirl in those pretty eyes of hers.

He finds this information valuable. For how long it will remain so? He cannot tell. Though, part of him feels stupid trusting him so easily, he hopes it will do him good in the long run.

With his pleasure showing on his face he nods as if satisfied. “Very good, dear.” He praises and chuckles softly when the other bows to him. “You deserve the rank of specialist. You’ve proven yourself to be above an underling.” A hint of pride lilts his tone and his smile remains stuck in his face.

specialist. it had a far easier ring to it than underling, which ramesses knew to be an ugly, terrible word. not at all reflective of who he was. beneath kynareth's new smile, pharaoh found a new footing. slave no longer, and valuable to the grandmaster.
an earlier version of himself might have chafed to be so eager for the man's favour, but ramesses had grown more patient. more cunning. more willing to wait. more willing to bide his time.
"perhaps i can be of more use to you again, noble one," he commented gently, at last his own smile breaking through the cool stoicism of his face.

Kynareth can feel a certain weight lift off the others shoulders. It brings him a certain type of satisfaction that only pleasing someone he values offers. After all, Ramesses is a part of his pack and if the man is willing to work with him, the Grandmaster values him. 

Especially as the other speaks and a smile comes to that usually barren face. His own grin lightens and he chuckles. Tilting his head downward just the slightest amount, as if in interest, he speaks.

“Oh, I’m sure you will, darling. All you have to do now is show me the skills you possess and I give you another rank higher.” He doesn’t say it suggestively, but there is a certain devious mirth that flits through his sunlit orbs. “You may not be a blade, but perhaps a scribe would better suit you.” He offers easily.

not a blade, but a scribe. they sat at the foot of pharaoh, recording his word and deed. many princes were sent to study with recorders as well as with priests. ramesses considered this and kynareth's cunning for suggesting such. "i will be the saints' scribe," he decided, a lift of his pretty chin determining this in the next moment.
for now, there was nothing to do but learn and lorekeep. 
kynareth was pleasant, with his smiles and laughter and sweet words, but pharaoh sensed the ability to be cruel in the grandmaster. by Amun, he would not come so close.
"i will find you again, to begin." a dip of his gold-dust crown, a flick of his plume; ramesses would wait to be dismissed and then head directly to his half-finished den — to plot.

With Ramesses final words and an obvious decision made, Kyn nods his head with pride once in finality. He’s glad the man has a goal in his pack and he might just make history. He would be the first scribe after all. 

Then his words act as a parting — a goodbye. Kyn hums out a sound of acknowledgment with a dangerous smirk. “It would be an honor, darling.” He ends deviously. With that he would watch the man disappear from view, ur info around to continue doing his own Grandmasterly tasks as well.