It is within the early hours of the evening that the child is found alone. He is small, black, unremarkable save for the sheer emerald of his gaze and the strange length of his tail threaded with white and red like a banner that whispers of the blood the dances within the confines of his veins and remains so unknown. He is not far from his den, the red eyes of She watching on from her place of concealment and yet for now at least he remains within solitude as he has done for more then an hour now. He is seated, fixated, one paw sweeping over the dusted earth before him. He has cleared the leaves from this single patch, tiny claws trailing through the dust and soil to leave behind a pattern of sorts in his wake- almost as if he attempts some form of childish art upon the earth and yet he offers only circles- over and over and over. He is fascinated with the lines he creates, fixated upon them as if they are his obsession, those emerald eyes holding a focus near…unnatural as thise puppyish lips part to utter a multitude of words- that hold no meaning. They are not truly words, not really, more so they are sounds, squeaking rumbling, snarling sounds or tiny growls and grunts as if he carries out a conversation with one only he may see or hear before those tiny lips pull upward into a grin and his motion is halted.

His left paw is lifted from the earth, returned to rest beside his right paw now, his form seated straight and tall despite his youth as those striking emerald eyes rest upon his creation of circles and lines once more. Young muscle contracts, the creature pushed from the earth to stand now as he walks, paws placed upon the largest of the circles he himself has drawn within the dust, a shaking, wobbly creation and yet his mind seems fixated once more as he begins to turn- following his own path around and around in a fashion almost mechanical. Those small growls and snorts never ceasing as he does, for words he cannot know, words have never been uttered in his proximity and as such he cannot be made to learn them. He holds no name, no meaning, no true existence beyond what instinct demands of him. If he is hungry he drinks from She, if he is tired he lays until he is no longer tired, if he desires movement he seeks Other that is like himself, though other lays today and will not be roused in these moments. Later perhaps, for time holds no meaning for the wayward and unusual child, for day becomes night and night becomes day, unmoving and unchanging, over and over and that is all that must be known. His walking is paused suddenly, form halted, eyes fixated upon the earth still and yet those black ears twist atop his midnight head, listening. He listens for He the one whom comes only in the darkness and forces him to return to She for She will not allow He to venture to close to him or Other and instinct will not allow that child of ebony to come to close to He. Instinct is a clever thing, after all and Instinct knows that He, Tobias, Father, is intolerable- self-preservation assured even within one so young, instinct allowing the knowledge that She alone, Flare, Mother, will protect he and Other, Singe, Brother.

When it is that He does not appear and the wind stirs the leaves upward once more yet carries no scent of any save for himself the darkened child returns to his work, circling once more upon lines of his own creation, direction never changing, focus unyielding until a singular leaf is given to blow upon his picture, landing before his paws- blocking the line he follows as those childish features contort, lips pulled back from tiny fangs as the side of his lip alone simply…twitches and yet he offers no sound, no movement- merely continues to regard this indiscretion of nature as his mind twists and turns within his skull. He stands, a single darkened form upon that well-worn path, blocking it from both directions, the forest continuing in either way before and behind him and he stands within that clearing like a spirit, a ghost….guarding the path in either direction as that strangely long tail made of fine and wispy hair trails behind him, his little legs beginning to show these unusual wispy hairs as well….as if his form is not quite real, his edges undefined as he continues to stare with something almost akin to a childish malice- though what will be done about the offending leaf remains to be seen for now…..