Elijah and Stella had made a terrible mistake.

Far from their union producing offspring as strong and virile as their forebears, the mixture of two such potent bloodlines had caused a calamity. From their love-affair had sprung flowers as wilted and gnarled as old trees; Illias, whose brain didn't function the way it should have, voiceless Zagan and Kairos who lacked the instinct of self-preservation almost entirely. The only one of their youngsters who had seemed to come off unscathed was Castiel, although time would no doubt reveal his shortcomings as well. Perhaps it was the clashing of Tobias and Heyel, or the infuriating taint of Kaliska, but something about the brood was not right. In fact, so different were they all that they required a title to encompass them, one not passed on by their elders. Kairos had spent many an afternoon racking her brains for a name that would fit, and had come up with something original; the Voidborn. A mixture of dragon, angel and demon, they were each filled with unimaginable power and potential, if only they rose to it. Kairos herself had nothing to prove, for a goddess is assured of her power, even in a transcended state. Perhaps this was the reason she had ignored pack border-markers and also why she did not shrink from the long-haired stranger who gazed at her so confusedly, or perhaps it was simply her unquenchable desire to experience life that drove her onwards.

Whatever the reason, she had not run from Lonhro and had instead pushed her nose deep into his ruff, attempting to breathe him in, as if his scent alone held the answers to all of life's questions. He stood still for a few moments, and it did not escape the girl's notice how he resembled Zagan, but also how different he was. Her pelt prickled with a strange emotion as the silky tresses tickled her ears, so unlike the coarse, fluffy pelt of her brother that she lingered longer than she otherwise would have, exploring his body fully. Only when he drew back with a sharp reprimand did she cease her investigation, satisfied with her findings and having committed his odor to memory. When the black beast said nothing further, Kairos asked him of her favorite sibling, but was given nothing in reply save for the name she had spoken vomited back at her. It seemed, then, that the young creature did not understand her, but she was both too proud and too annoyed to repeat herself. As if hurt by what went unspoken, the charcoal child pressed himself to the earth, and it took the tricolor femme a few moments to catch the scent that had startled him.

Around them, the undulating landscape of Asteraia sprawled, unaware of the happenings about to take place. It fed the young female on mysteries she longed to solve, and stole from her the wisdom to conceal herself that was necessary for her survival at such a tender age. Choosing not to heed her companion's warning, despite the handsomeness of his face, she took a few steps towards the shadow she could see looming on the horizon, head cocked to one side in puppyish curiosity. Over time the dark patch grew larger, drawing ever nearer to the young girl, and she watched patiently until the blackness coalesced into the form of a wolf, larger than any she had seen before. She fixed him with those fathomless eyes of black and blue as he approached, even taking a daring step towards him, until the mammoth beast loomed over her head. From his massive jaws came a flood of saliva that dropped onto her head and he swiped his tongue over his lips in anticipation.

Whether Kairos recognized his intentions or not, she remained motionless, unafraid, recalling the warnings Tall Protector had given her so long ago and the stories the Milk-Giver had regaled them with of a dark demon without whom none of them would be alive. He was said to be coal-black and dangerous, a bloodthirsty hellion bent on destruction, and she had been entranced by him, thinking him to be one of her better creations. He was even more magnificent in reality than she had expected, and a fondness was kindled in her breast for the male that she did not possess even for those who had sired and fed her. She felt it even as he lowered his toothy skull, savagery a mask more beautiful than any she had seen, ready to kill.

In a moment the spell was broken, and she was being roughly shoved backwards by a small body even while a sound like the crashing of oceanic waves bid her slick her tender ears to her skull. Taking a moment to assess the situation, she realized that the small male was shouting at the larger, even while the greater warrior roared in his face. Admiration for his bravery blossomed in her breast, although his latter actions that spoke of compliance confused her. He squirmed on his back before the nightmare, little throat exposed, and Kairos was given to launching at him herself and ending his despicable show of weakness, but the emotion soon passed and the boy rose, backing away from the black beast and urging her do the same. She hesitated, and his tiny, sharpened teeth caught her muzzle. She yelped angrily and shook her head, but the youngster spoke then as though she had not reacted.

Kairos heard his words, but wondered how she could obey them. The emerald eyes of that raven-robed menace had caught her in their clutches and she was held fast, staring at the brute, admiring his impressiveness while he sat there, doubtless waiting for his chance to pounce. How she had designed such a being was beyond her, but his perfection reflected her skills and she was satisfied. No doubt frustrated with her lack of obedience, the desperate Lonhro tried again to reach the uncomprehending mind of his cousin, his fractured words managing to pierce her subconscious simply because they were broken.

With difficulty, Kairos parted her lips to reply, eyes still fixated on her grand-sire, “Kill what has made him? He can try. But I must look. See what I have done, see how great is he? Like Tall Protector, only better. Better, and he doesn't protect. Like Zagan he does not speak, not with tongue. But see, little friend, I want to touch him. See, I want to smell his fur and feel his skin and contact the madness that cries to get out. You can see it behind his eyes. Like little claws scratching, forever scratching. It must be painful. I will talk if you're too afraid.”

In her own way, Kairos' words were also fissured, full of meaning and yet likely imparting nothing, especially to one whose grasp of language was poor at best. She thought to soothe the crackling tension that Tobias had brought by talking to him like she did with Zagan, imitating her brother almost perfectly. A dip of her head, a greeting, and a lowering of the ears to show submission. She did not truly understand the motions, but she knew that they often elicited good things and she thought to use them to calm the bull who graced the earth before her. Also, in moving forward to better engage the hellion, she had brushed up against Lonhro and was completely swamped by his scent. It also rubbed off on the guard-hairs of her pelt, helping to shield the cloying odor of Elijah that emanated from Kairos' very blood.

Unbeknownst to the little one, Zagan had encountered their grandfather on another occasion, and he had been protected from Tobias' all-consuming appetite by Flare. Perhaps somewhere in the dog's mind, her motions would remind him of the other puppy his mate had not allowed him to eat, and save her from his cannibalistic ways. If not, well, there would be one less Voidborn in the world.