[Thorne Fenerial]

Like so many other days, this one was cloudy. Thunder rumbled, resounding through Thorne’s entire body. He gave a shiver of delight. Thorne loved storms. Sometimes they startled or scared him, but not today. Not while he was a coyote. Nothing could touch him right now. And to prove his point Thorne bounded down the market place, snagging a live chicken in his jaws as he ran. He shook the bird, breaking its neck, and crunched down on it after the townspeople had stopped chasing him. Of course, Thorne hadn’t realized where this put him.

After finishing his meal, Thorne looked up to see the palace in front of him. Staring at it he Shifted back to his human form and stood there in only black pants and a bandana around his neck, plus the thick gold chain that sparkled. A gift from his father, the only gift he’d ever received from the man. And here he was. Thorne was only a few hundred feet from his father, if the man was in the palace. How easy it would be for him to get into the castle, run and follow the scent so like his own and see his father’s face. To see if he was the monster Thorne had made him out to be for so many years.

The face only his mother could love. Seriously, the guy’s own advisor had left and formed a rebellion against him. How pathetic was that? Couldn’t the emperor hold onto a woman for any length of time? Well, whatever. Thorne wiped his mouth on his forearm and stretched, then turned to stalk into the shadow of the castle, his black boots making almost no sound on the grass. He hated this place. Hated the city and overall hated all it had to offer him.

Pain. Sorrow. His past.

[Jeren Calvert]

Jeren's mouth turned into a grimace as he heard the thunder boom throughout the sky. The grey clouds hanging idly around weren't promising either. He'd have to make his trip to the woods a short one. Grabbing his beaten cloak he threw it over his shoulders to hide the simple peasant top and black leather pants he wore. The pants didn't necessarily scream ordinary, but they wouldn't tip anyone off to his identity either so they'd suit. Plus, most of the time he'd be in his wolf form and he needn't worry. So he stepped from his room and pulled the cloaks hood up.

As his boots clanked against the floor of the palace, his eyes kept a sharp lookout for anyone he knew. It would be hard to explain his attire to fellow members of the guard or, God forbid, his father and mother. No one knew of his trips out in disguise. They merely assumed he was strolling through the palace gardens because of course, being a responsible prince, should he venture outside the palace grounds he'd call for an escort. Jeren seriously doubted that anyone would understand the way he felt. To the entire palace inhabitants and pretty much all of his people, he lived a glorious life. All one had to do was look at the palace and think to themselves, 'He's got it easy.' And he did. Besides always having to fear being assassinated by a rebel, Jeren lived a pretty easy life. Still, the walls of the palace felt more like bars, holding him in. The obligations he was held to felt like chains keeping his soul in one place. Which is why he enjoyed the woods and this disguise so much. It allowed him but a few minutes of freedom. Of recklessness and pure ecstasy.

At the exit into the front courtyard of the palace, Jeren immediately came to a halt. Before him was a young man, he was guessing somewhere around his own age. He wore no shirt, but instead only a bandana, pants, and gold chain that looked as if it could have come from the royal treasury. Jeren regarded this stranger with caution. Having the element of surprise for having spotted the boy first, Jeren realized he could easily slip away unnoticed. But then there was the possibility this intruder could be a rebel. How had the guard missed him!? Jeren wasn't willing to let this person wander the palace unhindered.

Standing firm, he yelled out, "Hey. Who the hell do you think you are and just what exactly are you up to?"

[Thorne Fenerial]

Thorne hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings when he heard someone yell at him. Spine stiffening he spun around easily on the wet grass and glared at the newcomer. The man was built about like himself with blonde hair and an arrogant pose. He dressed like a commoner, but he didn’t smell like one. Something of the guy reminded Thorne of himself, but he pushed that thought away.

“Excuse me?” he growled, folding his hands over his chest and curling his lip in disgust. “Who are you to talk to me like that?” He could have been important, but honestly Thorne didn’t give a damn at the moment. Swaggering toward him, Thorne’s curled lip turned into a full out grimace. “You smell like your worth something, but your dressed as if you crawled out of a sewer.” That was an exaggeration on Thorne’s part. “If I kill you and advertise that I did it, will I get some interesting people after me?” Thorne asked mildly as he came within about twelve inches of the other man. “Or will no one really care about you?”

Always curious, Thorne was interested to find out, though he did wish he had a sword with him, just in case things got out of hand. Though it was nothing his coyote form couldn’t handle, he was sure. Was this person an Emperial? He seemed like it, being at the palace and all, but he could just as easily have been an undercover rebel.

[Jeren Calvert]

The stranger's behavior took Jeren off guard. His clothes had slipped his mind and now he silently chastised himself. If this guy did end up being a rebel or another sort of enemy, Jeren would have a had time explaining to the guard about his wardrobe, The fact this person was unarmed relaxed Jeren just a tad. While he had no clue what this person was able to shift into, Jeren knew his wolf form could handle it, and regardless he knew the stranger couldn't match his speed. It was the greatest asset Jeren possessed. Naturally the young man had nothing but rude things to say to Jeren. Jeren wondered whether the man would be so bold if he knew he were talking to the crowned prince.

Jeren almost snapped it out, but took a steady breath instead. He wasn't going to loose his cool over scum like this. Reaching behind him into his back pocket, Jeren pulled out a gold coin, certainly worth more than the chain the man wore around his neck. Fiddling with it he rolled it between his knuckles in a taunting way. A sly smile spread across his face as he ducked past the stranger and into the open lawn. If this meeting ended in a fight, it would be better to have it outside the palace.

Thinking his words over carefully, Jeren finally replied. "Who me? Well, I'm just part of the guard. I don't really have any ranking either, so most likely, no one will care if I die." Using his middle name he said, "My name's Elian, how about you? You do have a name right? Will anyone care if YOU die?"

Putting the coin away, Jeren stood firm. He was bracing himself for a fight if there should be one. This man seemed harmless enough, and if looks proved deceiving Jeren would just rely on thirteen years of personal training with the captain of the guard.

[Thorne Fenerial]

Thorne straightened arrogantly, his grimace more of a frown. He hated this man even after just exchanging a few hostile words with him. Stupid idiot, living in the palace. He didn’t know how good he had it. Thorne hated people like him. Really hated them. Of course, that was probably because of his background, and being the illegitimate child of the emperor himself. Honestly Thorne hated his father just because he was his father.

At the man’s question of Thorne’s worth, Thorne let out a bark of harsh laughter. “No. No one would miss me. I don’t have anyone to miss, either. But if you think you can rid the world of my presence,” Thorne stretched out his arms, smirking now. “Go right ahead and try. I’ll kill you.” This was less of a threat than it was a promise.

“A member of the guard? Hm. You look a little….higher bred than that. But I guess you can’t judge a person by the way they look. Hell, maybe you’re a little smarter than you look,” Thorne considered this for a second. “Okay, that’s going a bit far, but you get my point.”

[Jeren Calvert]

Jeren remained calm. The threat to his life really wasn't intimidating in his eyes. Everyday rebel scum promised him his demise, and yet he still stood. However, this man certainly didn't seem a rebel, and appeared to be hating Jeren more for his actions then his status, though the man was unaware of Jeren's real status. Pondering his next move, Jeren plopped down onto the ground. He really did not want this to come to an unnecessary fight, and he was hoping to avoid the guard and pretty much the entire palace staff. Twisting a blade of grass with his finger, he scrutinized the stranger's appearance yet again.

"You speak of me being higher bred than I appear, but what about you? That gold chain around your neck certainly doesn't seem like a peasant's trinket. I wouldn't take you for a rebel either. So these are my questions, what is your name and what exactly is your business here at the palace? Answer truthfully and I'll tell you my real name, and my real status. Sound fair?"

Jeren raised his eyebrow inquisitively. His parents always said someday his curiosity would get him into troubled, and on many occasions it had, but he could not be satisfied until he knew the strangers exact intent inside the palace. While Jeren had already dismissed him as a threat to his parents, this man could still be planning on robbing them, or some other various mischief. Jeren had always been taught never to trust anyone, especially someone you've just met. Appearances, after all, can be deceiving.