Sethan pondered the "true" assignment that the group had been assembled for, as directed by Hoyle himself. Werewolves, eh? The dead king had no dealings with the creatures prior to his reawakening, and his only knowledge of them stemmed from rumors of such beasts from across the sea and to the south of his kingdom. Many questions surrounded the wolf-men from Sethan's perspective. Where did they come from? What was their purpose? What was the reason for forming their governing body, this Lupus Naturae, and what was its ultimate goal? For such straightforward creatures, there was certainly a great deal of mystery surrounding them. The reason for this goal seemed paradoxical to Sethan, though mostly because he could not read any kind of logic from the workings of this lupine high council, or whatever it was. In times of crisis, power and allies were to be consolidated, not shorn off on a moment's whim. Perhaps he was simply missing the context of their decisions, but it still seemed quite poorly-planned from his perspective as a ruler.
The red-haired girl that he had just addressed a moment before revealed herself to be a werewolf, shifting into the shape of a great, crimson beast. Studying it, Sethan could not help but admit to himself that they possessed a remarkable feral beauty, quite unlike the therianthropes that he was used to dealing with. Werecrocodiles were a most unpleasant sort. He idly daydreamed a scenario wherein he rode a werewolf into battle, but through a slip of his own imagination the werewolf was then replaced with a werecrocodile, and he promptly banished the fantasy from his thoughts.
The group bound for Egypt was forming up in front of the now winged Isis, which Sethan could not help but scoff at. He would much prefer to travel there on his own wings, if that was the designated mode of transportation, but he did not deem it worthy of causing a schism at this early point in their quest. With a quick call to his chauffeur he had his car pulled a bit closer, where he deposited his fur coat (such a thing would be truly unnecessary in the desert heat) and dismissed the driver, though telling him to keep the car until his return. As the Cadillac drove away, Sethan checked his person. Within his jacket, a diamond-encrusted Beretta with a pearl grip was holstered, loaded with a full magazine. On his other side hung an ornate leather-wrapped handle, though without a blade to designate it as a hilt. Regardless, everything seemed to be in order, and Sethan rejoined the rest of the party in the shadow of Isis' wings.
