He watches still, emerald eyes fixated upon the scene before him, no longer caring to attempt to shield his niece of sorts, though indeed he cannot perceive this connection of blood- for though the mind of the boy has come to seize upon some manners of speech his words are far from perfect, his understanding instinctive, basal- based more upon animalistic need then an emotional understanding of that which exists around him. He is wolf, thru and thru, he is made to hunger and feed and to exist- for nature demands it of him, his ‘care’ for Kairos a truly fleeting thing. If she was of no use to him then she held no value, if her mind does not perceive the threat of Tobias then he will not attempt to save her and spare her blood from being spilled upon the earth. The strong survive, the weak do not and as such nature will take its course as the darkened shadow prince merely slinks backwards to watch with wicked eyes. There is an awareness in him that is absent in his own sire, an intelligence much the same and yet perhaps improved upon, an ability to perceive more then he whom came before him and yet for now much of this remains locked within the child born of the wilds- a boy designed to be more cunning then any who have come before, a creature the sort of which Moladon should fear as he offers that innocent grin and puppy laugh that promises sweetness and boyish play. For Lonhro is many things- but innocent he is not, pleasant…..he is not yet he has learned to master what his sire could not. An ability to blend. An ability to change the perception of others in regards to himself- to allow them to see what he desires they see in an effort to better conceal what lurks within and bears its fangs in the dark.

If he is surprised she is not consumed he does not show it, merely watching her still as the Dark Father leaves and she stands proud and tall in the victory she perceives she has won, the child offering little more than a snort as that glorious tail of bloodied red and ebony on snow flickers behind him so long and trailing- just as his pelt itself, each hair long, each edge fine and wispy as no child before to afford the boy an ethereal appearance that will, in time- prove magnificent in full growth. As she returns towards him now his ears prick forward to receive her, emerald eyes held upon her own as his head tilts once more, attempting to perceive that which is offered. Tall Protector is not a word he knows or understands, eyes held blankly upon her still.

“Tobias.”

He offers the name, for it is all he knowns, gaze returning to her once more as if seeking assurance else understanding upon her own features, the boy capable entirely of reading what remains unsaid before he repeats himself once more.

“Tobias. Father.”

He offers no more, the conversation seemingly over now as he stands, nose turned upwards and into the wind now to taste of it as Karios speaks again and one ear curves towards her in response- though whether he understands he words of merely responds to the sound of her speaking cannot be said.

“Fast- yes. For eating….yes.”

This seems delight him now, a snicker hissing between his teeth, his reaction….incorrect perhaps and yet he is learning still when and where such reactions and expressions should be placed. In time he will mimic in a manner his sire has never proven capable of.

“Come, come.”

He sets off, assured the girl will follow as blackened limbs carrying his slowly growing form forward with a smoothness of gait near inconceivable on a child so young as he strides further and further upon the fields and towards an area more clear of grass and more coated in soil and earth- a rabbit warren, as his form lowers now to the grass to conceal his dark pelt from view. Some rabbits gather about it, some lingering close to holes, others further out as one paw extends to trace claws in the dirt.

“Girl….go around…around.”

His paw moves tracing, around and around in the dirt to form a circle of sorts, a display of supreme intelligence in itself and yet that he attempts to display the scene before them is clear.

“Around….until……near me, yes.”

That his words do not make sense, no truly, is ignored, the meaning within them existing still- he desires she be opposite him- to chase the rabbits forward and away from their holes- to chase them to him in an ambush of sorts- though such young children will be surely lucky if a kill can be made.

“Then…run…..fast run. Go….go…..”

Bossy- isn’t he?