Perhaps it is the sound of distress that so brings the Nightmare from the darkness of the forest he hunts within, the feeble flailing and rank scent of spattered blood drawing the creature like a moth to flame as each step strides silently upon the earth, the obsidian demon given to par the embrace of the shadows that for years so long have been his own, his home- his kingdom. Eyes of reptilian green gleam aglow within the night as smoke rises like dragons breath from parted lips and exposed jaws as the sounds of a fight echo within the darkness. So he comes. Because a fight has a loser- one left to lick wounds and tremble in their weakness, one left vulnerable for his own desires. He is nothing if not their shadows, Death Incarnate, lingering within the wings of all whom grow old, or feeble, tired, sick or lost. He consumes their weakness, eradicates it and still they do not thank him, still they do not lord the King of Demons with praises as they should. Still they tremble in the darkness and flee before him, this Black Prince- the last heir of Judila, the last to carry the blood of so many once great save for those he has fathered.
He does not seek his children, for his mind cannot comprehend them save for Riven. He understands only hunger and possession, understands Riven is his and this is all- the others are nothing, meaningless, mind incapable of this comprehension save for his desire to consume the males amongst them as he had done his own male siblings so many years ago, hunting each to destruction. For males are threat- competition for the attention of their Mother and the darkness within which he hunts. There can be only one Tobias and the demons of his mind seek only to taste the flesh of those he has created- for he can have no sons. For years so long Aaliyah had hidden their sons, one protected by the white of Diveen that so drives the Nightmare back each time, another lost within the space and time that holds no meaning for Tobias, the scents of the other fractured, broken, gone and as such he too is gone from the mind of one whom lives only to feed.
It is instinct alone that sees the blackened hellion paused upon the line of trees, eyes unblinking fixated upon the old wolf as the large and heavy one seeks to tear into flesh and the scent of blood permeates the air with its utter perfection that readies the saliva that pools within his own jaws to leak and drip a silvered trail to the thirsty earth below. The smell of flesh, of blood draws forward the demons of his mind that screech and claw hooked fingers within his skull as lips pull back from the fangs whom have hunted so many, destroyed so many and seek to add one other. It is the scent that halts him, the scent of the younger male marked in black and red and white, a scent that sees his own ears lace backward and heckles lift like darkened knives. He smells…of him and of her and his mind does not understand, revolting against this information that confuses the Nightmare and only seeks to further instigate his rage as that fractured, broken mind begins to reel, to struggle and claw at tendrils of information that exist within the darkened confines of his thought.
“Alyx.”
It is the only word he utters, one lost within the sounds of fight and forest as mind fixates on nothing save for the blood and flesh of the one to be consumed. For now the young one is ‘like him’ not for eating, no, no, for helping- then maybe for eating, yet for now the prize is shared, the goal aligned and for this moment alone the dominant male is content to allow another within his space if only so his meal may come more quickly. He moves as wraith and shadow, a silent force upon the earth to come from the opposite side to Reaver, jaws parted to lunge for neck and throat with the screeching roar that so heralds his coming into the night, one green eye rolling towards Reaver, the warning intent that he will not tolerate an attack upon him as he seeks to bite down and steal the life of the old one as he has taken so many before.
It has been so many years since Father and Son have stood within the shadows of each other.