It was not a simple thing to please the beast of coal and flame. He was not one to be easy upon his children. He did not coddle. He did not show them affection with loving tongues and close cuddle on a dark scary night. He did not praise that which was not praise worthy, and he was harsh when he was displeased. Only the strong of mind, emotion, and body were worthy of being called his own. Only those that showed their worth were to be given even a second look. Andras paid no mind to when his song decided to stalk him in the reeds and brush. At times perhaps his son was stealthy, but there were others when he was simply ignored. Let the boy play games, to practice his stalking as much as he pleased. Andras hardly cared, and if it got his skills out to be future hunter than so be it. His latest children were simply too young to pay any mind to, any serious mind yet. Elasor was not exactly worthy of his attentions either, and quite honestly it was the boys in his second litter that showed the most promise. Siren? Well...she had been disobeying his will, was small and weak, and was becoming more trouble than he anticipated. Astaroth and Naberius were coming on useful age, and his attentions were more focused on them than any of his other children.

Okay, so perhaps he does watch his youngest children from time to time. He preferred not to be around them directly so much. Young children were...overly annoying, overly loud, overly...everything but that traits he enjoyed. He was still a father, still a creature that wanted his line perpetuated and brought up properly. They were a reflection on himself, a reflection on demons, and when correction was needed, he would provide. From the hidden brush on the edge of the water he watches his youngest son, Nogitsune, as he already begins to show a lust for death and blood. His sunset eyes of fire and shadow watch him like a hawk, hidden away so his son would act as if he were alone. Andras knew Iromar better than any other. He had created his own personal paths were specific methods of traversing them. Jump over this particular section of a bush, jump upon that rock and crawl under the rotting log. It wasn't a simple path, but one that would cause trouble to any that chased and did not know the way. He knew this spot was perfect for watching, and he was content in the sight of his youngest son as he executed his attack.

He did not stand there long. He moved out of his hiding place, exposing his form of deadly precision out into the open, walking like a sentinel as he boy ran towards him all...excited and stuff. He merely stood tall, head high in the thick air as he looked down upon his son with a hardened look. The ducking was promptly dropped as Nogitsune came towards him. Andras could have easily dodged his son's greeting of fangs, but he proves his own might be taking the fangs as if nothing was biting him at all, rock hard muscles reacting as he sternly looked down upon his son who proudly fetched the insignificant creature he had killed. How...small. Yet his son was small too. It was a start. he still held his head high, staring down with an iron gaze towards his son.

"And what is to be done with it?" he asked, baritone vocals crashing into the world and breaking the silence of the moment.

"Do you wish to add it to my throne?" he asked, allowing the slightest of smirks on his features. Perhaps it is small, but his throne was a land of rot and bone, piles of death that he enjoyed. It was an honor for his son to contribute, and the best way the dark male could think of praising his son...without direct words.