The squirrel's blood spattered the loamy soil, gleaming upon the backs of long-dead leaves like scarlet rubies, catching the silent that filtered through the foaliage from above. Somewhere in the roiling bowels of Iromar an alligator hissed, roused by the iron tang of fresh meat. Kneph ate quickly, slurping at the guts of the creature with obvious relish, the fur around his lips stained pink and speckled with saliva. Only when he again looked up did he notice the other, who he had felt watching him from a safe distance, had begun her approach. He caught the revulsion in her gaze and grinned a sharp-toothed grin, enjoying her discomfort. The thin cadence of Nox broke the awkward silence that had grown up like a cobweb between them, “Why wont you eat, ignorant one? Don't you like tail of squirrel? And after Nox was so happy to share it, shame!” He smiled again and bent his head, swiftly snaping up the last morsels of rodent before finally allowing his pale eyes to meet with her brilliant orange ones. She stared deep within his being, to where he writhed in torment beneath the oppressive presences of the ghosts, calling out for help while his body only smiled evilly. The young wolf spoke then, attempting to summon him from the depths of his despair.

For a moment there was nothing, and then a harsh cackling filled the air as the blue-black warrior fell into a fit of hysterics. Only after he had managed to regain his composure did he bother to speak to the other one, Drudge talking over the still laughing sound of Nox, “Why would you want to meet the voiceless one, ignorant wolf? He cannot speak with you, not as we can. Don't you enjoy us? Aren't we good enough for you? We never play, no never, isn't that right Nox?” a nod of agreement, “Kneph does not own this body. Kneph merely has the bad luck to live here. We own this body! And we own the blood.” His excitement was palpable as he closed the distance between them further, blasting her with his foetid breath and freckling her muzzle with his spit. His hackles rose and his presence became menacing, his jaws opening and closing, clicking his teeth together in a symphony of death. His gaze bored into her own and his chest began to move rapidly in and out. Just when it looked as if he were about to attack, the light left his eyes and he sank to the earth, a heap of ashen fur.

To the untrained eye he would appear dead but, to a healer of Iromar, his shallow breatheing would have been all too apparent. The first sign of motion was the twitch of a paw, which was followed by the ripple of a shoulder as the large wolf heaved himself to unsteady paws. He looked around him with a mixture of horror and confusion, obviously unsure of his current predicament. Around him swelled the song of the swamp but, beneath it all, one might pick out the unmistakeable sound of manical laughter. Kneph plastered his ears to his skull against it, casting about anxiously before he caught sight of the female for the first time. Her intense orange gaze startled him and he took a step back, searching her for any signs of injury or aggression and hoping desperately for neither. He was well aware that he had just been under the influence of his personal demons, but he remembered nothing of what had occurred in that time frame, and the taste of blood on his tongue filled him with fear. Gathering his composure, he faced the other and, with only the use of body language, he tried to speak with the stranger, hoping she was watching him close enough to see the subtle nuances of his muscles as speech, “You hurt? Pray not. I Kneph. If I hurt, alphess kills. Kills me.”

He only hoped she would understand.