Redsand Canyon nom nom nom

It was unfortunate for their intruder that Arsenio had made himself an active presence on their borders. The Greek man had carved many paths, discovered numerous ways to traverse the terrain, and he had found himself feeling stronger with the courses that he set for himself.

The masking of the foreigner might have worked, but Arsenio had been placed on high alert. He had anticipated that Ramesses would visit them, would try to force his entitled opinions and needs upon Mereo. When the mercenary caught the scent – no matter how faint – of the stranger, he bristled and charged into a search.

When his eyes fell on a pale, red-marked figure, he could not help but to believe that it looked to be a wolf Ramesses would treasure, would call beautiful. Arsenio lunged for the intruder, glacial eyes dancing with pent up rage.