The way you hate me

 When the sun had begun its descent below the horizon, that was when Exalted began to lead the way back to his new home. "It is time." Was what she said to him, after a break in their conversation.

 The temperature started to dip drastically, just as she liked it. The stifling heat was unbearable but the coldness of the night made her feel alive. She breathed in deep and remarked, "Death blesses Its lands every night." And so many of the Sinners --and Misha-- missed it. "We grow near to our home. I smell a kill on the wind." Was that a fresh wolf or coyote? She didn't care which and would demand that their newest recruit be fed. If he so wished to partake. If not now then he would have to try later. The flesh of the Sinners was most delightful.

 "Our home is within The Eye of Osiris. When we get there, you can choose a den wherever you please inside, save for the heart where the Blood Pool lies." That was sacred ground for quiet contemplation and prayer. She could now see their home and she wondered if anyone else was up and about now.

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The hours passed, and the sun set on his first day in the foreign desert. When prompted, Elazar followed Exalted willingly towards this new beginning she had offered him, well warmed enough to the idea by now. He had nothing left to lose, and felt he stood poised to learn a great many things. Perhaps above all, in a way, he was nostalgic to return to the role of the student, if only for a little while, in only a way he could feel.

Even as they traveled, he listened, feeling lighter on his feet than he had in years. Death blessed these lands, then? He found he could not complain as the fresh coolness settled, but the sand was still strange underfoot. He wondered if that suited him, too, as he sniffed at the winds next. The place he had heard of, and the family within it, were closer to tangible now. “Ah, perhaps I came at a good time then,” he allows for a hint of a smile there, in good humor for facing change of such magnitude. He could eat, of course, and past that very though, a part of him was interested in learning the hunting here in the desert now. What manner of creatures may he find there in the desert? He was bright-eyed at the chance at something so horrifically new.

Exalted has taught him a great deal already, so he's keeping all she shares close, wanting to remember as he drinks in the scenery. The Eye of Osiris, and within.. a blood pool? “Alright,” he accepts smoothly, and a freely-given glint of curiosity. “A peaceful corner of my own is all I could want,” he nods, grateful for the chance, and as a brand new recruit, no less. He values comraderies, and the company of other prospective packmates, but the occasional privacy helps him think. It has always been that way and in his last life, lofty title had granted him certain luxuries. “What happens at the Blood Pool?” he asks as once again, he sniffs. The winds speak of wolf traffic, clearer now. Fresh and older alike. Who are these others that follow the Mother? He feels like a stranger still because he very much is, but in time, that may come to change.

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Night was a time that Misha was not normally up. However unlike someone who decided to wander off the whole day without a word, he would be responsible and keep an eye on the pack and lands. Exalted had not return to sleep the day away, thus Misha could not in return slumber through the night. And he was miffed about it. Wasn't she suppose to return before the sun had risen? Her being late made him nervous and curious. Did she run into trouble or something excited? Or was this the start of a new coup d'etat to kill him. It always came down to that. Betrayal. A battle between his rationality and experiences.

When the scent of Exalted filled the air, his ears would stand up and he would trot with that silent grace over to her. A new smell was with her, and it was alive. Most canidaes she brought home were deceased and used for a meal. He slowed down the trot as they came into view and allowed his eyes to come to agreement with his nose. A tall and pale male was with her, and Misha immediately like what he saw. Exalted did the social dance of maws right for once, how pleasant.

Yet Misha found himself freezing to a halt as he stared directly into the handsome stranger's orange eyes. Nostalgia. He remembered that look from his own army, from his war-mongrel sister, Vera. This was a fighter, and his eyes were sharp. A double-edge sword. He normally didn't like risks like this. Wolves that were capable were helpful until they decided otherwise. Exalted sure knew how to pick them. No doubt he would have to keep an eye on this one. He would merely wink and look away from the other nonchalant, trying to hide the sudden intensity of his previous gaze.

Crossing the rest of the distance, Misha dipped his head in a polite manner. "Welcome back.-" It started off fancy, as if one was greeting their queen. But all too soon he ruined the image. "Took you long enough though." The passive-aggressive jab was on purpose, daring. But he did this dance often and quickly changed the subject before the sting could burn. "I put the Innocents to bed. And I obtained a feast from one who seemed to come from the north with a twisted leg, they must have injured it at Deadhorse Drop." The last sentence hid the details but the story could be figured out by Exalted pretty easily. An injured wolf had met Misha at the wrong place and wrong time. He was not a good hunter, but he was indeed a good opportunist.

A lover of dance, Misha straightened his posture in a way that seemed abnormal and elegant at the same time, a lazy smile on his face. After Exalted or the stranger would speak he would try to pry. "Care to introduce me to this handsome wolf you brought back?" He asked, yes a flirting tease but also his own indirect way to ask Exalted to fill him in on her intentions with this wolf. He was pretty sure this was a new member but he needed to hear it from her mouth. Perhaps he was just another meal for the pantry.
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 He seems to still be taking everything in stride. Not fleeing --which would mark him in Exalted's little book-- and ready to learn more. "Many things. Ceremonies, sacrifices, births, it is sacred ground. If you would like to be closer to Death, that you may make a prayer, you are free to travel below to do so." Who was she to deny someone their closeness with their lord? Perhaps It might give a sign to the aspiring fellow. One such sign was what had elevated Nyra back into the ranks of the favored.

 She turned from looking at him, to looking at the newest arrival. She would know that lean outline from anywhere. It was Misha and he approached unabashedly. He minded his manners at first, dipping his head and giving a polite greeting. Surprising, she almost expected him to-- "Took you long enough though." One eye would twitch and her lips would start to curl until the topic moved on. Oh, but he was so good at doing that. Cutting things off before she could properly have a chance to react... which would be to beat him to a pulp.

 The curling lip was shifted into a smile as she turned to Elazar, "See? All family here." Playful little jabs, all fun and games until she lost her temper. Which was often with Misha. Stuck-up fucking asshole! "Excellent work Misha. I thought I smelled a feast on the wind." And the smile was a bit more... cruel, if anyone was keen enough to look a bit more closely.

 But, in an instant it was gone as she turned to introductions. "This is Elazar, he has come to join Sanatorium. I was bringing him back to help him get settled in. You should come with us. Afterwards we can have that feast to celebrate his introduction to the pack." And that was her basically voluntelling him to come along. Plus, at this rate they could get him introduced to his new main source of protein, after he'd already been initiated into the pack. "Elazar, this is Misha. He is my Witness of the Ascencion or in layman's term, my advisor. You ever need anything answered or have any concerns you can ask him." And with that she would tilt her head, ushering them along towards the Eye.

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Quietly content in his own way, Elazar nods softly as he absorbs her reply. So the Eye served many roles. Sacred ground, he summarizes in his notes then. It is a distant tendril of a thought, but he only takes a second to consider right now.. what a prayer to death itself may be shaped like, and from his lips no less.

But, the focus on such a landmark peters out as another wolf appears, tangible and moving closer. Similarly pale, but his features are different than Exalted's in many ways... Elazar dips his muzzle and takes him in too. The lingering stare from the acid-eyed wolf does not go unnoticed, however for now, he simply blinks away graciously, posture leaning deferential and respectable; the newcomer is sure to mind his manners, though an ingrained self-assurance might never leave in full. These strangers have little trust built in him yet. He did not know them well enough either, but he does know to make every second precious--so it has to be a thought for later, for now.

Their exchange is certainly curious, he notes swiftly in his silence, glancing between them both. Exalted aims to keep the mood light, and the new face is evidently quite unabashed, also seemingly of high esteem here if he hears correctly--which pleases Lucius, too. He's gotten right to the head of the matter here, and that suits him well.

Introductions turn upon him properly after he steadies better, and holds fast to every word. “Good evening,” he greets kindly, for Misha mostly, trying to seem flattered enough. Exalted has prefaced him very neatly already, so he does not press to add much more, not without prompting. In his role right now, he much prefers to listen. He will find his footing proper soon, he feels. He almost wants to savor the process... “But yes, it is only my first night in these curious new lands,” he sways his tail in a slow, gentle test of a motion before he slowly moves after Exalted's lead too, onwards towards the mysterious Eye.

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