[Azuhel]

“Come ‘round ‘n walk with me.”

She took her deeper, beyond the Court of the Log and the majestic power of the waterfall. Up and up, past the fog bogged lower sections of Alteron and toward the higher via wolf-cobbled stone structured in a crude staircase. She has no qualms about Spirit’s purview of her the empire, no hesitation when it comes to showing off the thick umbrella canopy left behind below them so that the sight of shifting clouds and clear blue skies can open up above them and the black wings of the crows that conquer it. These were the heavens were they not? Those brief and flickering glances of highborn sectionals that separated the vagabonds from the gentry.

But, it isn’t the salt-damp Acropolis cliffs that she will place Nouveau.

It’s the center, the heart, the pulse of the kingdom proper that she welcomes the guest. It’s a careful walk back through the upper level forests and back through twilight struck canopy—with it’s dancing pockets of light to shine through greedy foliage. It’s not until they reach her space that she pauses, allowing dancing lanterns to bath them in the shadow crafted darkness.

“Dis way.”

The entrance to the Cathedral is an open maw. It’s threshold is somewhat burdened, framed by jagged wood of what might have once been glorious large double doors. With a bit of a bounce to her person she’d slip further into the space, past the trickling water that cuts across the walls and stone like spider veins and over to the large worship pit of flame that spits and cackles, howling, howling, howling—

Hungry, she knows, but not ready to be fed.

Because, it’s not the beauty of the opening room that Azuhel leads Spirit to, nor the long spiraling hallways that were no doubt host to other wolves of her court and her wayward possessions. It’s the Draconius Gardens that she leads Nouveau to, with it’s vines and roses and the strutting arrogant behavior of a small cluster of white and colored peacocks.

Her smile is somewhat bashful, genuine if a bit saturated with mischief.

“We kin talk ‘ere.” In the silence, while the children are out and about and the birds are tolerant, “Tell me about it, dis place you’ve come from.”

And what it can do for me.