Azrael

Only Fools Walk Where Angels Fear To Tread

His foot tapped at the floor both anxiously and impatiently all at once. Azrael hardly....comfortable with this visit in any sense. It had been a long time since he had seen Calliel last. He had needed the space and he suspected, in her own way, she had too. What she had become was hardly her fault, no, that blame laid entirely with Frost. Azrael hardly having forgiven the stallion for turning his last remaining relative into one of them and yet he could hardly change that past. No matter how much it irritated him. What was done was done. He might never enjoy Calliel's species yet surely he could...tolerate it. In the least he was determined to try. His relationship with Serafina had only continued to progress and if he could live comfortably with a witch then perhaps the time was right to attempt to make amends of sorts with his niece. Even if he was still assured Frost had escaped unpunished. The Werehorses relationship with Alexander making such a thing all but impossible. Especially with Alexander's rise in the Hunter ranks. Azrael still assured the council had been foolish to not only promote the decades old Hunter, but too. Allow him to keep Frost as his horse. The both of them were dangerous as individuals- together they could prove a truly catastrophic force the Council would struggle to control. Did anyone else see the truth of it? Were they blind to Alexander's history of megalomania and Frost's anarchism? Hmm. The day Alexander and Frost raised an army against the Council they would finally see he had been right all along.


Azrael snorted softly at the thought, the Hunter folding his arms across his chest as he waited for someone to answer the door. At least she was locking it. That said something for her intelligence- perhaps her maturity too. The Hunter finding himself almost hoping the girl he had last seen had....grown up some, perhaps, in the time he had been away. He had missed her, to an extent, her presence having added something to his otherwise quiet apartment and yet even in her absence he had hardly ceased to care about her. Azrael often finding one way or another to stop by, even if she hardly knew he had done it- and make sure she was alive. Alexander too, continued to assure him off her continued state of living. Azrael having taken some satisfaction in the knowledge she had managed to get a job and had some sort of authority figure to watch over her. Even if he found Alexander questionable at best. Still, that very news that she had been recruited into the Mounted Brigade was irritating. That, if nothing else, would be the death off her. A part of the Hunter attempting to convince himself he hardly cared. One less WereHorse in the world would be no great loss and yet- he could hardly bring himself to....forget her. In the very least he might yet convince her to stay off the front lines although he suspected that depended on her rider. Rider. She truly had become an animal. One who was going to get herself killed.

That door finally opened then, Azrael leaning away from the door frame to peer down at the slightly disheveled young woman with hair as blonde as his own. Calliel dressed in a hoody and sweats. Azrael letting one golden eye arch slightly upwards, his lips parting to comment on her appearance when she suddenly sighed, her hands held out towards him as if attempting to placate him. He wasn't even mad yet. Not much. Calliel snapping those words towards him near arrogantly then, insisting she hadn't done anything and that he could surely ask Alexander for proof. The Hunter's eyes rolled lightly then as his own sigh left his lips. Azrael hardly waiting for that invitation before stepping past her and into that apartment. Had she been sitting in here all day? Christ. At this rate she would get herself killed because she wasn't fit enough to be in that horse army let alone skilled enough.

"Hello to you too."

He near muttered as he wandered past, Azrael glancing almost curiously around that space before tucking his hands in his own jeans pockets in some effort not to appear so.....menacing maybe. Even if he could feel those hunting instincts tugging within himself at even the sight of her. Instincts that, for now, he continued to force downward. The Hunter lent against the arm of the sofa then as he turned to face his once-ward. His golden gaze meeting the blue of her own. His words decidedly level.

"I know you haven't done anything, Calliel. I can search for you on the database with the other Werehorses the Council owns. Believe me, the moment you do anything I'll be the first to know."

Those rules, in the least, had changed under Alexander. To some degree. Those war horses, for the first time, allowed to resign from those positions whenever they desired. Calliel could, one day, choose to leave the Mounted Unit if she desired. Still, he supposed, he was hardly hear to yell at her about that just yet. Azrael eyeing that space around him critically once more before turning back to Calliel. His features softening slightly in some effort to...appease her.They were both hot-headed. Both inclined to, well, as Sera put it 'make a damn bloody noise' about things that, maybe, didn't need quite so much rage attested to them. Azrael making an effort now to control his temper- and her's in turn.

"So.....how have you been?"