Finally, the heathen is free of his dam and brother, finally he has the freedom to do as he pleases. His black and tan body moves wraith-like through the moors that were so close to his mother's supposed first pack, bright sea green eyes looking over the bog as he moves through the soggy terrain relatively unhindered. Every now and again his overly large paws will sink into a soft spot in the earth, making him growl as mud soaked through his toes. The boy is a wolf after his mother's heart, having won what affection he could away from his weakling brother, he grew in strength as his mother began to teach him to fight. It was not a loving relationship that the young nephilim had constructed with his mother. Rather it was something of a "needs met, give her space" type deal, he got what he wanted from her and left her alone. Alchemy learned early in life that nothing was free, not even a mother's love. Truly he has never known such a thing.

Being born to a wolf who never wanted pups is a strange thing indeed, not knowing the tenderness or softness that came with other mothers has made the boy somewhat...odd. He stays silent most of the time, withdrawn into his own secret world. He is distant, having learned to build impenetrable walls about himself to keep his feelings from being burned to cinders. His mother not usually one for praise, but always one for harshness when it came to short comings. Thankfully, the young boy had very few of the undesirable traits, though he did have to admit he envied his brothers blood, snow and soot pelt. Being born white tan and black was something of a let down to the demon boy. Today though, he is keeping his mind free of domestic life, doing what he pleases and trying not to get sucked into the bog so early in his life.