So it ever was. So will it always be. Such is the nature of evil.
What right did that male have bringing such weak spawn into a pack such as this?
This is the only thought that had reverberated into the mind of Underidge over and over for the past few seasons as he had watched the prisoner survive, hunting for himself and two children that lacked a mother figure. Why did Eden let them stay here? The very existence of that weak boy was an affront to his senses and the god within him stirred often, straining inside of his chest and burning into the very marrow of his bones.
That one. Over and over that mantra played in his head and Underidge would often watch them from a nearby cliff, the slate gray clouds blending his silvery figure into the skyline.
It was almost impossible to ignore the urge, the command in his god's voice. He was the Vessel, after all, and it was his duty to complete the rituals demanded of him. Yet in this moment he could not simply because it interfered with his own life - Underidge and the Shade were at an impasse. So he waited, in an almost impatient manner, day after day for them to leave. For Nathaniel to decide that living here was not an acceptable option and to head out into the rogue lands so that Underidge could finally satisfy the desire that coils within him, a shadowy darkness that seems to flash in the black undercoat of his silver figure.
Yet today he cannot help himself as he stands at the treeline with the shadows playing havoc across his filthy fur. He is unkempt, his fur knowing matted portions and dried dirt. Underidge has lean muscles and often he looks almost gaunt, although his winter fur affords him a healthier look at the moment, and his eerie silver eyes flash as bony paws bring him forth, past the den of Nathaniel where he pauses for a moment, contemplating sneaking in to snatch that sickly creature and end it's suffering. To end his own burning pain.
But he presses on until he silently moves behind Nathaniel, his gait uneven for Underidge is not a creature of beauty or grace, just an eerie stillness and uncanny eyes.
"If it is relief you are seeking from the burden that rests in your den, I will gladly take it from you." His voice is almost sibilant, not without inflection though he does not speak in a disgusted manner (even if he feels disgusted that the male has let the boy live this long), more a flat tone.
UNDERIDGE
THREE - MALE - NO HEART - STARSHADE'S SOUL
OF GLORALL - ENDERLY X BANSHEE - KILL COUNT (II)