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Slowly do the contractions of life fade, until the moribund body that seeps blood from multiple wounds becomes still, going limp in the embrace of a father and son so ravaged by a sickness of the mind. When Tobias stepped back to allow the body to crumple to the ground, Reaver retracted his limb from the back of the wolf but dug his fangs deep into its throat to tear away the first bite of the meal. For the moment he is distracted from the way Tobias fell upon the body and tore into the tender flesh of the underbelly. He consumes the morsel he had taken first, savoring each piece as it slides down his throat until he finds his mouth empty once more and his tongue sweeps out across the sheen of wet on his black muzzle. Blood. He wants more, to consume until his belly swells with fullness, and so he steps forward to the shoulder of the dead wolf. Of what he can remember of his life, he has rarely truly had to fight for what he wants. His immense size easily allowed him to overpower those who stood in the way of his desires. Even wolves such as this one did not prove to be much of a struggle to take down. But the beast is subliminally aware that this wolf will not be so easily deterred, and he catches the sound of the warning growl as he moves to place a single paw upon the shoulder of the corpse.
Those eyes, those sickening green eyes turn towards him, and Reaver lowers his head and his lips pull back in a silent statement of his own dominance. His effort in strangling the life out of this meal will not be forgotten, and he will take what is his. Green striated eyes locked with those that were purely of that shade, and his hackles bristle even as Tobias' do. As the living black wolf steps towards him, Reaver's head twists upwards in a menacing fashion and his ears lace back at the blood curdling sound that erupts from the other's throat. When the lunge comes, Reaver does not retreat, his own jaws parting and snapping forward to collide tooth and muzzle in a clacking crash that made the very trees that surrounded them shudder. The upper fangs of Tobias rake along the top of Reaver's muzzle as he snaps forward, aiming to deal likewise damage to his tongue. Neither has made a true attack on the other, warning growls now bubbling in the son's throat just as they had in the father's as they disengage and Tobias falls once more upon the feast before them. In all this he had succeeded in only one way: Reaver had been force to remove his paw from the shoulder of the wolf, and perhaps that had been enough.
There is a rising heat along the bridge of Reaver's muzzle where Tobias had managed to break the skin, a trifle by comparison to some of the marks Jaidah had left upon his body. Still, it is the registration of Tobias' scent as it floods his nostrils that keeps him from pressing closer upon the kill that Tobias' smaller body now shifts to claim as his own. A single, rumbled syllable is expelled, confusion raking its claws into his brain once more in a way far more severe than the teeth of the other could have managed. It earns turned ears and nothing more at first as the elder wolf continues to consume the best of the meat, that which Reaver had been so set upon claiming for himself, and only the tumultuous state of his mind keeps him from challenging for it. Finally venomous eyes lift to stare at him and a single word is spoken, so lacking of feeling.
Alyx. It means nothing to Reaver, though it causes a prickling sensation in the back of his mind, like claws delicately tracing along rock to make the fur along the length of his spine bristle. When it is repeated his ears prick forward, catching the words that should have been foreign to him as they pour almost mechanically from the lips of the green eyed monster. But for whatever reason, he recognizes the words, understands the meaning behind the sentences spoken. Perhaps not every word, but the pieces align into a single thought. Alyx and Elijah, sons of Tobias. Elijah. Tobias. Alyx. Reaver remains still, eyes locked upon him, almost as if he is waiting for something...more. It is the final utterance that Tobias makes before he turns back to his meal that somehow strikes a chord in Reaver's broken mind.
He lunges away from the two black wolves - one feasting upon the other - a strangled snarl escaping his maw as he gnashes bared teeth together. Lips remain pulled back as he begins to pace back and forth, no longer seeing the midnight murder that had unfolded in the forest. Now things flash before his eyes as he snaps at what is not there. A white wolf with a mask of black and red. Two pups at her paws, one his absolute doppleganger while the other bears a face entirely consumed in black, the red markings less and the black not extending so far down his back. Back and forth does the beast trudge along the length of the kill, for quite some time as Tobias takes his fill. He does not fully comprehend that these are memories, for he does not even recognize the pup as himself. Anger and misunderstanding consumes his mind, ravaging any sense that he might possess, until finally he stops and turns towards the meal.
Rather than attempt to comprehend what he assumes are more tricks of the mind, he refocuses upon the meal he had so desired in the first place. Stepping towards the corpse once more he lowers his head and sinks his fangs into the muscle that strings along its back, intending to consume that which lay to either side of the spine. Whether Tobias had finished yet or not was not taken into consideration, though he is always aware of the other wolf's presence even as his mind attempt to build up more blockades around his memories.
This was a wolf who had never asked for permission for anything before, and he was not about to start doing so now.
REAVER