On he travelled, following his nose as they would say. There was a pride here, he knew this now, and he had every intention of finding them. Alaric was tired, already, of this rogue life — he simply was not suited to it. Ambition burned through his veins and he wished to thrive.

The oasis emerged before him as if a dream. At first on the horizon, wavering in the heat. A mirage, it seemed, though as he drew nearer it solidified in to something tangible. He had not been out here long enough to hallucinate.

He knew his place and stopped at the border, keen to cross and ride but respectful of the politics. Alaric had ruled for many years, he knew how to navigate the role of a pride. Ambition he damned he tipped his head and called for the leader, for @Seneca.

Sharp eyes roamed the foliage as he stood to wait, tamping down his impatience to play the role of the dutiful member..

where innocence's burn in flames

The sound of iron shocks is stuck in my head, the thunder of the drums, dictates. the rhythm of the falls, the number of deads, the rising of the horns, ahead. From the dawn of time to the end of days I will have to run, away. I want to feel the pain and the bitter taste of the blood on my lips, again.

code by corvus

Always there are strangers at his doorstep. It is precisely what he had expected with a position of power, and Seneca greets each of them with the same swift stoicism. He is loathe to waste time or sit idle. He sweeps silently over the sands as he heads in the direction of this most recent call -- yet another voice he does not recognize, but most of them have come to be welcome all the same.

His ears lilt forward as the sandy lion comes into view, a sturdy man of respectable size and stature. "Seneca Miroslav, High Sovereign," he greets as he comes to halt on the inside of the borders, a look of intrigue spanning idly across his features. "How can I help you?"

@Alaric

table by sentinel / lion + cliffs

The man that came was exactly the kind that he expected to be leading a pride in the desert. It was not an easy land to tame but that did not seem like something that would bother the stoic creature that appeared. While it surprised him to see the dark tone of his coat (for surely the black would absorb the heat like a hot damn) he made no comment on it.

"Alaric Stärke." A rough accent coated his tongue as he introduced himself. "And I'm hoping to be the one to help." A grin flicked across his lips, though it disappeared as quickly as it appeared.

"I'd like to offer my services, for whatever it is you may need." He sat, then, in a calculated move to show that he meant no threat. He was straight-forward and to the point, he saw no point in beating around the bush, and watched the man for an indication of what his answer may be.

@Seneca.

where innocence's burn in flames

The sound of iron shocks is stuck in my head, the thunder of the drums, dictates. the rhythm of the falls, the number of deads, the rising of the horns, ahead. From the dawn of time to the end of days I will have to run, away. I want to feel the pain and the bitter taste of the blood on my lips, again.

code by corvus

A call rolled across the Oasis and while Victoria recognised that it wasn't for her, she did understand that it was for her father. Curiosity had quickened her steps until she had spotted her piebald father moving towards the borders. It was an area that @Seneca had told his daughters was out of bounds - at least crossing it was. But the young Princess figured her father would not mind so much if she just happened to follow him out and stuck close. Victoria sidled up to her father, her small cub body brushing against his back legs as he addressed the rogue at their door. Victoria took note of his polite words - his tone wasn't overly friendly, but it wasn't standoffish either. Wide grey eyes watched and in silence (probably for the first time in her life) Victoria was content not to play a leading role in this interaction. The other male responded to her father, naming himself as Alaric Starke - Victoria latched onto this piece of information with a slight narrowing of her gaze. He was here to offer his services - what might they be?

table by koi

diantha stalks close behind, making sure to keep @Victoria in line so that she won't get them into trouble. for now, the eldest remains quiet as she pretends to be the predator she will become. her milk teeth are still milk teeth, but she hears from adults that they will disappear and bigger, better teeth will grow in their place. through the sand, she walks, as slippery as a little snake. she's starting to like the desert, but the places beyond the border still draw her in. it's exciting to meet new faces now, because it means one more adult in their kingdom, making it bigger and better. she stops for a bit, eyeing the stranger with a curious and suspicious glint in her gaze. unlike victoria, diantha decides to place herself in front of @Seneca, backing up so she can snuggle into his thick mane as she raises her head and smiles, toothily, at the no-name adult.

_{BG — DUSK/ALE-TIE — CODE}

He has been followed. Seneca can expect little else, he supposes. His daughters are endlessly curious, as they should be, and wise enough now to at least know they aren't permitted near the borders unattended. His ear flicks idly at the approach of @Victoria and @Diantha, who both manage to keep their mouths shut; the latter, especially, is a pleasant surprise. He makes no complaint as she settles herself between his forepaws, whilst Victoria hangs at his heels.

An idle quirk of his brow meets the somewhat cheeky offering and grin of @Alaric, his own expressions impassive. "That would depend on your talents," he rumbles, though he cannot help but wonder what makes the man so eager to offer when they are absolute strangers. Just like every other new face that comes to his borders, Alaric will be granted a bit of a hazing before Seneca considers welcoming him in.

table by sentinel / lion + cliffs

Two small children follow the man, and while Alaric has little time for cubs he tosses them a charming wink before his attention returned to @Seneca.

“Varied,” he offered, with a tip of his head, “though primarily those geared towards battle.” The scars that marked his body told enough of a story, no doubt. Alaric was a warrior through and through.

“I led a pride for years. I can navigate my way around politics, too.” A slight shrug with this statement, as clearly they were not his preference. Alaric much preferred the language of fighting..

where innocence's burn in flames

The sound of iron shocks is stuck in my head, the thunder of the drums, dictates. the rhythm of the falls, the number of deads, the rising of the horns, ahead. From the dawn of time to the end of days I will have to run, away. I want to feel the pain and the bitter taste of the blood on my lips, again.

code by corvus

He's not surprised; @Alaric's hide bears a cacophony of scars to tell his story, much like the accumulation upon Seneca's own pelt. There is no vanity wasted on warriors -- to bear cicatrices is an honor, a proof of mettle and fearlessness.

"I see," he muses momentarily at the information that has been presented to him. A man of many talents, it would seem. "What is it that makes you wish to serve now?" Seneca queries with a quirk of his brow. A former king at his doorstep a vagabond -- his curiosity is boundless to know what has brought him here.

table by sentinel / lion + cliffs

It was a good question, and one that he had expected. The children are quiet, watchful, and Alaric does not pay them any further attention, his focus held by the king.

"I do not wish to rule, but I would be lying if I said I had no ambition." Alaric would make his intentions known now, to save them the discussion later. "I trust any pride that makes its home in a desert is strong -- I only wish to amplify that strength."

His tail flicked and he peered beyond the figure of the king, in to the lush oasis behind him, before his gaze returned to @Seneca. "I want what most want -- a pride, a rank, and eventually, a wife." He was a simple creature with simple desires, but he had the experience and the skills to achieve them..

where innocence's burn in flames

The sound of iron shocks is stuck in my head, the thunder of the drums, dictates. the rhythm of the falls, the number of deads, the rising of the horns, ahead. From the dawn of time to the end of days I will have to run, away. I want to feel the pain and the bitter taste of the blood on my lips, again.

code by corvus

He finds appreciation in the honesty -- assuming that's what it is. He is hardly unaware that there are fabulous liars in the world, but in the end, if @Alaric is the wrong choice here, he is vastly outnumbered by Seneca's supporters. He would rather the opportunity for another worth his while than to turn him away with the possibility of what could be.

"You can begin with your ambitions by striving for a rank," he rumbles, an idle simper touching the corners of his lips. He encourages anyone with such desires to fight for their claim; Seneca himself would only be too happy to engage in helping Alaric prove his worth. "Welcome to Andal Oasis," he offers officially, inclining his skull slightly to welcome the pale lion in, his daughters undoubted in tow.

Exeunt Seneca

table by sentinel / lion + cliffs