So it ever was. So will it always be. Such is the nature of evil.
After the ritual that Eden had asked him to help with Underidge had slipped into the shadows of the trees until the shadowy undercoat of his helped him blend in. It had been splendid; a release he had not known he had needed. The offensive limb had been left there for them to look upon, to poke and prod if need be. He half suspected Eden would have the boy burn it but he didn't stick around to watch. The tainted blood from that offensive limb stained his mouth and his throat. It had splattered across his face and crown and left him a bloodied creature. It seemed fitting, perhaps, for he was a creature of blood and fury and ghosts.
He weaves into the more unfamiliar territory of Glorall. He was a stickler for patterns or rituals. It was a rhythm to travel a certain route to and from Glorall when need be and his den was well away from the pack, tucked deep into the woodland. He doubted even Eden knew about Paravana's existence here. Not that he would begrudge Eden that knowledge for he looked upon him in almost the same light except that he was a jealous creature. It seemed fitting that two parts of himself remain separate.
It is during this walk that he pauses a freshwater spring that will meander into the ocean a few cliques down. He steps into the water with little passion, burying his head beneath the liquid until his lungs feel as if they are going to explode. Only then does he lift his head, shaking off droplets and blood and once more he repeats this ritual. Again and again until the soft current has begun to wash away the blood, leaving the dirt and grime that was Underidge behind. He was by no means clean and pink still tainted his fur but the majority was gone and he had washed his mouth out.
He steps out, freezing when a scent captures his attention. Eerie eyes look around covertly, thinking that she had perhaps followed him here, but no, she is not around. So he stalks.
It is his habit and the moment he scented her was the moment one knew he would not quit until he found her. So he scoured Glorall, a ghost that startled wolves with his appearance for they didn't even know HE existed. It takes some time but finally he comes to spot, a den, and he hears the cries and roughhousing of pups. Young that smell of Sarabi. And he sees her, the mother of these... children.
A growl rumbles unbidden from his lips as he steps forward, hackles raised, silver eyes snapping down to the pups and fangs flashing. He needs no words - his body says enough. About what he thinks. About what he plans to do lest she intervene.
UNDERIDGE
FIVE - MALE - NO HEART - STARSHADE'S SOUL
OF GLORALL - ENDERLY X BANSHEE - KILL COUNT (IIII)