Draven scanned the surrounding features of the land with his dark violet orbs, searching for anything moving. He didn’t quite know what he was looking for, but that hardly mattered right now. The tribrid wolf had been wandering Dawnshire, slinking through the trees with no singular purpose other than getting to know his new pack. But he was also thinking of Esmae, that electrifyingly beautiful queen. Queen of Dawnshire, with seemingly no family . . . glowing pumpkin eyes, patterned blue jay wings, white pelt adorned with pure black brindling. She screamed of nobility, of royalty. Draven supposed Queen Esmae’s primary interest was to find a man, considering she had no family he knew of to offer up to this arrangement Draven had been hearing about, a peace treaty. Marriages, brokered between all of the packs to tie them together so as not to have another war in Starfall. A sweet notion, but he thought it was to be incredibly temporary. Peace couldn’t and wouldn’t last forever in any land; such was nature.
He found his thoughts turning to every aspect of the Huntress Queen. Eyes, pelt, antlers, wings, skull. All. Esmae’s air of power, nobility, and strength. Gaze that seemed to always be surveying everything. They were also both Aves and Voodoo. The dark male craned his head to the left, eyes still scanning.


“& they will run you down, down till you fall!”