[Ragnarok.]

The wind began to chill the lowlands nestled below the mountains. The forests would soon be white, when father Winter would cast down his ice and slow time — Death would feel comfortable in his element. Damascus would soon rise to his position, to watch after the group of whoever was left. For now, Andruil was the responsible one, working hard to go out and hunt for her brethren. Many had moved toward the south to escape the coming winter, but she found enough to scrape by, to fill their bellies to satisfaction until hunger once again clawed at their stomach walls.

Tongue lapped up spring water, drenching her throat and soothing the itchiness. The white of her muzzle was stained a dark red, a color she grew to love as many of the trees faded from green to yellows and on to oranges and reds. Her favorite the wine-colored vegetation, how deep it was and how it reminded her of blood. A life force that coursed within every being and she knew how precious it was. Sometimes, however, Andruil resented life — well, at least a person.

Summer had ended and Theros had pushed her again to the brink of anxious insanity. He always knew how to sneak up on her, how to go around Damascus. Cheimon always slept during the day, when the Phthinoporon was most active as to hunt for their little group, and that was when the old bastard decided to corner her at times. Andruil never gave in though, always pushed him aside and when she was done with her tasks, lay beside her mate to brood in silence as he slept. She never complained, never told her feelings to Cheimon, afraid that he would break Theros and unfortunately, he was too valuable to lose.

So she sad near a tree, contemplating when to return as she knew Damascus was not awake quite yet, she had a few hours to spare until she was safe. Teal eyes glanced up into the darkening sky, a golden array of purples and pinks splattered across. She was at peace in this moment, but nothing lasted forever. Ears twitched, noticing someone approach. Andruil calmly motioned her head toward the stranger, those red eyes and tattoos blazing against a blue coat.

“May I help you?”

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[Jezebel]

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Gemini was a bust- no, not really, but the atmosphere was not her jam. Hyperion was a beautiful boy, and one she had hoped to own, but her plans for domination fell through. Not only did he have children, but he loved them, and she knew he wouldn't abandon them for her.

Which would've been nice. The ultimate sacrifice to show his devotion, but he let her down. They all had let her down in the whimsical forest. There was no ladder to climb there, not one she had any interest in, at least. Not that the masses weren't full of anger or rage, because so many of them did.. No, it was the idea they utilized hteir aggression into something productive, like building walls to keep out creatures that go bump in the night. Like her.

Jezebel had left eventually, likely with no one begging for her to stay, but no amount of pleading would've kept her. Not there, not even Hyperion- although, she would come back for him someday, she had to go on her own journey of discovery.

One that lead her across the straits, In Between the packs, and to the very tree a Deity rested beneath.

'May I help you?' asks the wolf, so small and pretty, painted red by the setting sun, that Jezebel nearly lost her breath. Was this the spirit of the trees, as she was the spirit of her mother volcano? It looked as such, and her voice.. Andruil sounded like an otherworldly being, and the yearling felt something stirring inside.

"Perhaps," her lips curl into a grin, her voice a coo, "I've got many needs, you know- you ought to be careful about who you ask to help," but it was too late. Andruil had already asked, but Jezebel was feeling.. benevolent, maybe a little too kind. Perhaps she was just too curious. "But I think I'm to do you a favor, before you do me one, yes? That's how this works?"

The red-eyed girl is delusional, of course, but she knows power when she sees it.

[Ragnarok.]

The girl was straight forward enough, smiling with teeth so large that it reminded Andruil how cruel the world could be and the beasts within it. She too was a beast, a row of teeth hidden behind a curtain of flesh. Phthinoporon smiled sweetly at the child, crossing her front legs as she listened to the hoarse voice of this young child, wondering where she had hailed from. She seemed to know the dangers, a reminder again that beasts could tame children and control their mentality. Lashes batted slightly before Andruil swiftly stood on her feet.

“I asked for no favors, nor did I offer. Only a question veiled in greeting.” she said, her voice as smooth and serene as her movements, paws softly upon the ground and hardly noticed as she circled the girl. This blue stranger was interesting, one that made Andruil question her motives, if she was interested in offering a favor. Perhaps things could change after all, a motion set in motion that was of her own will. She did not want help from Damascus, the deity was always one that wanted to solve her own problems, but she realized that this wouldn’t end unless she did something and soon. His advancements were gaining strength.

A smile came upon her muzzle, soft and subtle, but enough that she seemed genuine. “What is your name, dear?” she asked, wishing to know this child’s identity before she asked for help. Though, was it really help? This plan could be seen as a necessity, Theros was growing old and senile, and his arguments were an obstacle and hindrance and kept blocking plans to move forward. Andruil was witty enough to know he wanted power for himself, but Cheimon had pressed into his pride much too often. The flood gates had to open sometime, he would not wait forever. Sol’Shira was much too soft to ever push for him to retire, and she was much too naïve for his plans.

He needed an heir before his pathetic life drained and he wanted Andruil to serve him. What a joke.

“My name is Andruil. I am… Autumn. I am Phthinoporon. My season has come, and I serve my people, but… perhaps you could help a deity like me?” Andruil dangled the bait, and she hoped this girl would latch onto the hook.

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[Jezebel]

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'I asked for no favors, nor did I offer. Only a question veiled in greeting.'

Teeth are clenaed, again and again, her tongue lapping over lips that maintained a grin. Andruil was too pretty to mark for her arrogance, and Jezebel had failed to do as Keanu instructed time and time again: clear the area. It was only now, as she thought of the Peregrine, that she offered her nose to the wind, taking in surrounding scents and realizing they were not alone, not entirely.

Andruil was safe, if not for her looks, then for the simple fact they were likely surrounded. No one was too close, but she realized any wrong wail or cry, and she herself would be a lesson for anyone passing by. So she keeps herself quiet, eyes blazing as she watches the pretty spirit, waiting for more before deciding her own fate.

'What is your name, dear?'

"Jezebel, and you'll do well to remember it," because someday it will mean something. "Maybe phrase your greetings better, don't ask if you can help someone, because what if? What if I did need help?" her tail sways slowly behind her, like a cat watching its prey. "Spirits should know better," but so should little girls biting off more than they could chew, hm? Was that not a lesson she already learned?

'My name is Andruil. I am… Autumn. I am Phthinoporon. My season has come, and I serve my people, but… perhaps you could help a deity like me?'

"..Andruil? Autumn?" the next word wasn't even attempted, merely given a quizical look before her smile returned. "I thought you reigned over the trees, but the whole season? And you're in need of assistance?" she edges closer, forward, her wry smirk never leaving her cool blue features. "I'd be an idiot to turn down the offer, but what do I get out of the deal? I think I'd be even more of a fool if I didn't gain something from this. I'm not pious, lady. I told you, I have many needs."

The hook is set, Jezebel can sense it, and she gives it a gentle tug- I'm interested- she says,

'if you're the Deity of Autumn, I'm the God of Greed'.

[Ragnarok.]

The girl was quite demanding, Andruil thought as she continued to circle the blue girl as she listened. Jezebel was her name, one that sought to be remembered but the deity only gave a small smile in return, doting on the fact that this girl had to earn her place beside the Gods, that Autumn was gracious enough to give Jezebel a chance to sit among them. "Spirits do know better, Jezebel." she said, her eyes burning into red now, the veil of serene beauty falling into one of harsh weather against mortals — two Queens before this girl had blood between their teeth just as Andruil did.

So she lunged then, teeth snapping at a leg. If the hit landed, she would glide under the soft belly of Jezebel to force her balance off-center, and easily the tower would fall. If she did not succeed in such an attack, Phthinoporon would jump back with grace and smile again, letting the warning sink in that Jezebel would be wise to keep her mouth shut. If red eyes looked up from the ground, well it was all the same scene — a smile and hard teal eyes.

"You may call me any of those names." she said, once again laying under the tree with wrists crossed over gently. Lids closed over those hard eyes, letting them soften before opening again to the girl. Outsiders never understood, which is why she was humble enough to offer explainations. Cheimon — bless his withered soul — would only talk in riddles; Theros would most likely never give an interesting display and Eiar would only try to mother the poor girl. Andruil gave a slight sigh, relaxing the anxiety within and letting her shoulders relax. "I reign over the season, and now is my time. My husband rules over Winter. Mother Spring is quite loving... and...Summer." she paused, Andruil letting her gaze harden once more, brow furrowing at the idea of Theros.

They needed someone like Jezebel — Strong and young, willing to do tasks the old could not. Cheimon could easily kill Theros as the man always let his guard down, but this time, Phthinoporon felt this was personal. If the man wanted an heir from Andruil, today he would find them.

A smile crept along Andruil's muzzle once more. "My dear, Theros — or what you may call Summer — is very old. He wanted me to produce an heir." The deity stood again, hopping forward once toward Jezebel, heart beating faster, faster. "And I think I found his heir."

You.

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[Jezebel]

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The spirit sprung, and for a moment, Jezebel was lost in the seafoam eyes of her mother, and  in that moment, she discovered a vulnerability within herself. Andruil overtook her with ease, surprise benefitting the agitated wolf and sending the young girl flailing in the dirt. There is no blood drawn, not flesh broken, but she recognizes this movement as a sign of enforced obedience.

She bares her own fangs back in a snarl, but turns up her lips as she howls out with uproarous laughter.

You may call me any of those names.'

"Andruil it is," she softens her laughter into a hum, licking over her lips while edging to shove the little wolf off of her, to shake off the dirt and remain standing. If anyone was worried about Andruil, they did not show it- no one came running, she could not hear their rapid footsteps to rescue the damsel. It meant she could handle herself, and Jezebel recognized that with a nod.

'I reign over the season, and now is my time. My husband rules over Winter. Mother Spring is quite loving... and...Summer. My dear, Theros — or what you may call Summer — is very old. He wanted me to produce an heir.'

To which the blue girl snorts. "Listen, lady, I don't know the rules of your realm, but that sounds like a you problem, not a me problem," but she is willing to entertain the idea of assisting an immortal, if it meant something good for her. "Sic your dumb husban-"

'And I think I found his heir.' and those vicious green eyes bore into her, sinking the idea deep into her skull. "I was an heir before, in another false home, and I was cast out. I'm not kind, I'm not benevolent, I don't care one fucking bit about the lives of my subordinates, just that they know they belong to me. If I come into your home and stir up a little chaos, I'll do it without the facade," because she was promised the chance of power before, and look where it got her.

"I'll take his life, I'll take his name, and I'll take out anyone who tries to stop me. You will not call me an heir, I'll proudly bare the name Usurper," she feels her heart racing, her red eyes darken as they set themselves on vibrant green. "Now, make this promise to me and I'll do as you ask."

Show me the target," she feels her head thrumming, I need the practice, she pictures another world consumed by fire.

[Ragnarok.]

Things fell from the bag that Andruil expected. This young girl had been an heir of some nation at one point, but ran — denied and out casted among her own in which Phthinoporon understood. Teal eyes glanced at her small tail, remembering the pain and agony she had gone through. The deity had her own grief to push through, which is why she did not approach Cheimon for Theros’ undeniable greed.

Teal eyes flicked up again at the girl, tongue lapping at her nose, the tree littering leaves all around as the wind picked up. “You don’t need a façade, girl. Each season have their own brutal ways.” Paws again came closer, careful and calculating. “If I needed a Usurper, I would have killed him myself. The seasons are of four, not of three, my dear.” She knew not where this girl came from, knew not why she was casted out into the cruel world but their paths had crossed and it was destiny that brought Jezebel to the Autumn Deity.

And, as if nature noted her as Phthinoporon, a large golden leaf crowned the woman as it landed perfectly upon her head. Andruil smiled softly, more humble and fair as any Queen should be in the presence of a subject. Jezebel was not of their group, but the deity recognized a true heir when she saw one. “I promise you nothing. If you wish to be the Deity of Summer, the Theros, then you must prove yourself. Take his life, take his name. Take the seat next to us, to guide your people. Summer can be as harsh as winter; the heat can kill, not just cold. So come, Jezebel, snatch your destiny.”

Phthinoporon would turn, glancing back at the girl, nodding to motion to follow. Andruil would show her the way to Theros, an old man who had very little time left.

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[Jezebel]

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'You don’t need a façade, girl. Each season have their own brutal ways.'

"I was talking about being introduced as his heir. I want him to see what's coming, Andruil," she hums and raises her head. "I want him to know what's about to happen, and I want his followers to know how I operate, up front. I want them to make no mistake who their new Theros is," because it was now set in her mind that she will take what is offered.

'I promise you nothing. If you wish to be the Deity of Summer, the Theros, then you must prove yourself. Take his life, take his name. Take the seat next to us, to guide your people. Summer can be as harsh as winter; the heat can kill, not just cold. So come, Jezebel, snatch your destiny.'

Jezebel does her best not to taste blood from the hand that feeds her, but she is a greedy, hungry beast, and sometimes- just sometimes- she can't control her bite. "The heat was always my forte. I loved the fire, my mother volcano-" her red eyes weary now of the smaller wolf, that perhaps her own backstory wasn't necessary, that maybe mystery was necessary for her reign.

"I was born from the smoke and ash of a dying jungle. They were all afraid of what I could become, so they tried to stunt my growth, Andruil. I will not bow to them again, I will not let another hold me back," she hums and exhales. "I will not bow to anyone again, do you understand? You say there are four seasons, and they are all equal, are they not?" terrible as it may sound, equality meant she would not do the bidding of another again.

Jezebel begins to follow the deity, taking note of the leaf that landed just atop the pretty skull. It gave the girl a buzzing feeling, a tingling that raised the fur along her neck and spine. She knows this is where her story really begins.

"I'll show them the power of the fire they tried to extinguish. I'll show them what wildfire can really do," her head turns, eyes blazing as she looks in another direction. She will have her day, but until then, she had to adopt some virtue. Humility wasn't an option, but patience? The blue devil has nothing but time now.