It is too late for struggling, already he is being lured away from the darkness by the natural world. No longer will he suffer the kicks of his sister, nor the jabs of his brother - and in turn they are spared the same from him. But, with this new opportunity, there is too a profound sense of loss. Though the room was cramped and the womb-mates were not very nice, he would forever miss the comfort of the true darkness. Nothing is so dark as a body, there is absolutely no way for light to make it passed fur and skin and fat, and so always there will be a search to find this same abyssmal darkness. Outrage pours into him as he is dragged away from his true kingdom and cast onto the cold earth of his mother's. Bitterly cold and burning simultaneously, Shaddix is enraged at his treatment. He was a king! He ruled over the darkness as his brother and sister rebelled and he was the recipient of such horrid treatment? Was this how kings were treated out here?

A cold prod on his other side had him yelping and snapping even before the capsule he came in was ruptured, and when the warmth of a pink tongue rasped over his steaming fur, the young demon prince was once again pushed into a rage the world had never known. Twisting he snaps as his dam attempts to clean him, tiny croaks he called snarls escaping him as he refused the bath. Of course, he was unaware of the massive size difference between the thing he was fighting and himself. That is, until he is hoisted in the air and feels as though he is flying. It was traumatic enough to have been sucked out through a small opening in his warm, wet womb. Being lifted off his paws and taken off was downright humiliating. He felt only anger and indignation at how this world was so far, and a decent amount of resentment for the others back in the womb. How dare they stay behind while their fearless leader is treated like a toy?

He was set down next to something soft, and his first taste of comfort outside the womb was made. Warmth enveloped him in the curled form of his mother caring for his brother, and it was then he caught that fragrance that meant sustenance. Surging forward, the young prince of shadows opened his mouth in a move that would become trademark for his hunts. It was a clumsy charge, made upon shaky limbs, but it was going to be terrifying in the years to come. He latches on with fervor, making his mind not to let go in the instant that sweet, metallic fluid filled his mouth. It was rich, and thick on his tongue, bringing to mind the not too distant meal fed to him intravenously through the umbilical cord. Blood. Milk. It was the same, though milk was sweeter, his first taste of life had been through wolf's blood.

Shaddix is alerted to the presence of a new sibling when the other male comes trying to claim the fat teat in his maw. Dominant aggression and the need to stay placed at the best meant he would have to put his best paw forward. With a decisive smack, Shaddix aims a paw right for his brother's unopened eyes; not caring where the blow hits really, just that it sends the message. Once the debate was settled, he would let himself calm down enough to finish eating, though he never once would let go of the teat that was rightfully his.

It is the addition of his sister that pleases him most, for the very same reason she is reminded of their closeness. It is not that she is loved - not even resented - it was simply because she was his. His brother was his, his mother and father and older siblings. The pack was his, and all the wolves within were his, and to be with what was his was all the male wanted. That and a warm meal, and some sleep. And thus, the creature was born, and began the first day of his long, dark life.