The arrival of the other child sees the darkened creatures head roll, deadened emerald eyes fixated upon the white and black boy as he greets his brother and yet Tobias offers nothing more as he simply rises from his positions- the wounds of battle long since healed, leaving the ebony creature just as he had been before. If not older, stiffer perhaps and yet time cannot take hold upon such a creature that will not see it. Long limbs extended forward, that blackened shadow allowing a hissing rumble to part from his paws to summon forward his sons in an instinctive call that rises naturally from within himself- though it is cut off near as suddenly as it has started, leaving the children to follow in his wake. He has ceased his fevered desire to feed on them, even though the milk scent of Flare had long since faded, his wretched mind had formulated a new understanding- one of possession alone, for surely the bonds of fatherly love do not extend from the creature. Indeed the Nightmare that has so long plagued Moladion simply sees them as his own, his belongings to be touched by no other, like him and thus- not for eating. Though indeed when encased within the rage and heat of hunger it is surely wiser still that they keep their distance. His nature, after all, is a volatile thing.

Lonhro hurries forward on those long dark limbs, strange long fur trailing within the breeze as he presses close to Brother Singe. He is an independent child, a curious boy and yet in the presence of his brother he is often content to…yield to him in a fashion, to allow Singe to guide and move forward, content enough to follow though indeed he remains close to his white sibling all the same. For Lonhro is perhaps the more fearful off the two when faced with Tobias, the black boy intuitively wary if their sire, remaining several paces back and yet following all the same. He is curious, after all, as to where they are going, seeking to mimic the Demon King in a fashion, lowering his muzzle to the earth each time Tobias does, though what he is searching for he hardly knows, emerald gaze watching Singe nearly as much as their sire in an effort to fully comprehend what is occurring.

The air is rich indeed with the scent of blood this evening, dots of that heated liquid scattered about the plains like a glorious painted trail of carnal delights that has already begun to stir the demons within the wretched mind of Tobias, saliva beginning to leak from his jaws as his steps quicken. Someone, it would seem, has injured themselves, the scent foreign, not pack and indeed in that moment the hellish creature delights in such discovery as each limb extends to fall silently upon the earth with eagerness renewed. He does not pause to wait for the younger wolves, he will not offer them patience. They will keep up, or they will fall behind and indeed his mind does not hold within it the capacity to care nor perceive their smaller limbs in this, one ear merely folded backward as Lonhro begins to run in an effort to keep pace with the striding nightmare as he leads them further and further from the pack centre and towards the outskirts of the land where the injured wolf has travelled.

It is upon the very cusp of dusk itself that sees the ebony creature slow and pause atop the plain, a hissing rumble rising to coil within his throat and slide from parted lips like a breath of smoke in the oncoming chill of the night as his gaze falls upon his victim. It is a young female, a yearling and no more, her form reclining upon the borders as she licks at her grey pelt in an effort to clean away the blood that marks her injured hind limb- the scent only further seeming to excite the Alpha male as his form lowers suddenly now into the length of the grass, emerald eyes fixated on the young female as a hiss rises within his jaws once more- silencing the younger males that follow him, unwilling to tolerate their noise as his own form creeps slowly forward in a hunters crouch.

Lonhro’s own form halts behind the darkened Alpha, tongue hanging from his lips from the effort of his run, young chest heaving as ears prick forward, searching for the prey Father has found- though the emerald of his own gaze sees nothing save for the grey female resting some distance away, his mind, strange as it was- had already come to understand that others within the pack were not food. Food was rabbit or dove or mouse or fish, these things he knows, as Lonhro knows many things, gaze tainted in confusion now as a hiss from Tobias sees him lower into a crouch all his own- though he hardly knows what it is they stalk, gaze turned instead upon Singe once more, waiting, watching, curious now of his brother and what he will do.