So it ever was. So will it always be. Such is the nature of evil.
Their childhood had been an odd one, each leaning towards something dark and undefinable. Something bound them together that was more than the blood that coursed through their veins. Sarabi was his. It was a claim cemented as children and nurtured through adulthood. Underidge's obsession of mine and yours, his and hers. The pups from her last litter had been cast off, it seemed, in lieu of his own and despite his disgust for the creation of the children, he was inwardly pleased by this development. If she had merely come to him before instead of hiding with that lost male then all these things might not have occurred, for it is Underidge's nature to be jealous of those he possesses.
So, point in fact, it was Sarabi's fault for this predicament.
She growls and his lips twitch but he does not respond at first, hissing out a breath of disdain at her words. Fear his sins? Her words struck remarkable close to the truth and it cause his eyes to flare as he shifts to the side, silver fur parting to reveal darting shadows beneath. The Shade stirs within him, coiling claws deep into his bones, daring him to try and hide his sins from it. It wanted to see the children - were they worthy of life? Still, she dares him to come forward but it is she that comes forward, his eyes tracking her every move. There is hate mixed with desire in her eyes and his body shivers at her closeness.
"You are a part of me and I do not fear myself," he says in a stilted voice, hissing and rising.
Her defense of the children make his ears snap back and her head snakes out closer to his. He allows it, knowing that she hates him just as he hates her but they also love each other in a way that is toxic. He wants her bite as much as she wants to bite him. When she does rake her teeth down his neck he leans into it, growling deep. Paravana wouldn't question her scent on him - she never did. It is why she was his, mind and soul. Sarabi tucks her head beneath his and he angles his head to the side so his canine can rub against the crown of her head, threatening and possessive.
And he listens.
A son. The idea unnerves him because he hadn't thought of the boy as anything more than a pup. A son and another daughter.
"I must see them." The words come out as a whisper, begrudging her for even having to offer such a compromise. But she has awakened a curiosity in him and he hates it.
As if summoned, they come. Blackthorne had wandered far away from the den in his perusal of Glorall, swiftly bored of anything that might hold him back and confine him. He had allowed Natiya to travel as his companion this time; she followed and he led. It was the way things had come out naturally. She moved with a liquid grace akin to that of a feline, sliding from one step to the next at his hip, pausing at even the slightest inclination that he would pause. Each order he gave, she obeyed. It often put her at a distinct disadvantage when Thorne was in the company of their mother, who he persistently disobeyed and fought with. Once already he had attacked her, using his growing size to try and intimidate her, the aggression and dominance on him unwilling to comply with her wishes. Sarabi had come out the victor, never backing down, but it had left a foul taste in the mouth of the boy.
He pauses with one paw atop the snow, charcoal and silver eyes fastening upon the two adults. Silver and black intertwined. His ears fall back now, not fully, but enough to alert them to his dissatisfaction of the current situation and enough to make his silver cowlick atop his skull stand out even more. It refused to be smoothed or smothered, much like the boy himself. Natiya's bright eyes calmly looked between them and she settles herself behind her brother. "What are you doing here?" Thorne demands, his voice laced with poison and yet much smoother than Underidge's ever will be. More like his grandfather's, Enderly.
"What are their names?" He ignores Blackthorne then, although he never takes his eye off the boy. The air is charged, his body tense with Sarabi pressed against it. He fights the urge to step across the area and snatch him up, to break his neck for he senses even now how powerful the boy could be, if trained. How could he not be? He was of Underidge and Sarabi, two separate parts made whole.
UNDERIDGE
EIGHT - MALE - NO HEART - STARSHADE'S SOUL
OF GLORALL - ENDERLY X BANSHEE - KILL COUNT (IIII)