So it ever was. So will it always be. Such is the nature of evil.
"This way," is the only answer that comes when she asks where they were going. It was a pleasing thing to note the way that she follows him even after she looks so hesitant. That she does not fear the rain as it mars her pretty pelt for the time being. She is not a fickle female, he thinks, and somehow that eases him a bit. In just a short while she has gone from a stranger sharing a cave with him to one he desires most. He couldn't tell you why. Could be the pretty shade of colors on her pelt or her strange eyes. Maybe the way she talks in such a lyrical voice, her words not the kind that grate on his eardrums like maggots upon flesh. Could it be that she is a princess but even not royalty? The mind of Underidge has no actual meaning for such things. It is all in his gut, the way it clenches when his silver eyes stare upon her, the way his fur seems to stand on end with the need to step closer and yet further away. Could be hormones for he was fast reaching the age of puberty, the need to experiment that was by nature and not by design.
Whatever the reason it didn't really matter. She was behind him, loping at his hips and he did not slow his pace as they moved. No doubt her gait is much more graceful than the pounding thud of paws that is in his wake. The storm was loud, it masked most of the noise as lightening arced across the sky and revealed the wet pair. As an assassin the girl would likely realize they were heading in the direction of Glorall but he was hoping that she would not turn tail just yet. Just a little closer.
He opens his mouth a few times, angling his head sideways so that she can see, but he does so when thunder rolls so that she might be fooled into thinking that he is trying ot talk to her but she cannot hear. In reality it is a ploy to keep her with him even as the edge of Glorall comes into sight. There he slows, spinning upon his lean haunches in a sudden turn and thrusting himself so that he is now at her hips and she is facing into Glorall. There he lowers his head and snaps his jaws at the curve of her hind legs, intending to herd her into the territory. If she fights back then Underidge will do whatever necessary to subdue her even if it meant drawing her blood. His eyes seem almost black in the darkness of the storm and he tries to use his shoulders to ram her forward if she does go.
If Paravana should run into Glorall he will be at her side, pushing into her and herding her in the direction of his den which is not so far from the border but no so close to the center. To the left he will herd, nipping and biting and slamming, and when the large opening of his den appears he will throw all of his force into pushing her into that little spot. He will use his claws if necessary, not particularly to hurt her but to frighten her into submission, and he will continue to snap and force until she is within.
Only then will he enter, drawing himself up to block the exit with his ears pricked forward and head lower, a wicked grin on his face. Pleased with the new developments.
"I am Underdige." He says suddenly, his sibilant voice much more forceful than before and his eyes flashing silver in an almost deranged manner. She is here, she is stuck, and she is his.
UNDERIDGE
THREE - MALE - NO HEART - STARSHADE'S SOUL
OF GLORALL - ENDERLY X BANSHEE - KILL COUNT (II)