Perhaps mother will not understand. Ayal will, this I know, and even Anselm would understand the need for such an action. It is a neseccary action. It must be done so that he is able to grow stronger. I see it in him, this infectious weakness: it is a suffocating thing, a vice grip on his throat that he does not know. When he walks, his teeth grind down on one another. When he runs, I see the ankle twist and bend, a flimsy failure of design. It is a gnarled and heinous thing, a blight and a curse. Though my brother conceals this discomfort, I have trained him and I see it deep within him - even he knows it is a failure. Any one of our kind should be able to recognize it.
Yet, I alone cannot be the one to remove it. If I had been wiser, I would have done so the moment he slipped free from my mother, that ugly limb already present and yet, I had wanted to... test him, I suppose. I wanted to test the very definitions of strength and weakness. It is my own failure that ensures I ought to call in another to aid in my purging, to ensure that I do not make the mistake of allowing any weakness to be missed - and to ensure I do not grow too curious otherwise. It is not simply the curiosity surroundings definitions that seeks to consume, after all, but rather the curiosity about consumption in itself. It is why I require my thorn, Underidge. I know he will revel in the opportunity and I, too, eagerly await the opportunity to work with him.
I await him. I do not need to call; I have made my intentions known enough. I know he is observant and I know he will know to come for me; all I do is wait, content to rest away from the pack and in the darkness of the thickest wooded area of Glorall. Few come here and frankly, it is for the best. This is our business after all. Those that shall witness it will be carefully selected - I am no fool, after all. I know others see such behavior as undesirable, some threat to keep at bay and yet, that is their own personal weakness: the inability to do what is needed. I am doing this child a mercy before he grows taller and heavier, stronger and yet weaker. He will come to thank me - us.
And so, I am not surprised when he comes forward. He seems to separate the very darkness itself, a wraith by the sea as he settles near. I offer him a stout nod of greeting, my eyes fixatin quickly on the silver of his own.