So it ever was. So will it always be. Such is the nature of evil.
To be annoyed is a simple fact of Underidge's existence. There is much that annoys him: the cold, the heat, the weak, the noise. So much that it is a wonder he has not walked to the edge of the cliffs in his seaside home and cast himself off from it, into the deafening weight of the waves. They could ease his suffering of such annoyances and yet the Thorn of Glorall could ignore it all, as was his way, but children were a vastly different thing. They questioned, they grumped, they moved without restraint. They were the very thing that drove him away, his lips curled in disgust, although they had all learned by now that stillness in the presence of their father was a prized thing. It is simply hard for the youth to sit still, to focus completely, but they also learned this was demanded of them. Umbra was his favorite for she followed him solemnly and with complete focus, understanding what he said with fewer questions. Devotion was the word for her and if there is something that can win Underidge's attention it is devotion.
His son is the least of his children. The boy is wild and violently ambitious. Loud, bold, dominant, and his very existence is as if a bur is being brushed the opposite direction against Underidge's fur. It was a battle of wills when in his presence. A battle of his will against the boy's and his will against his own desire to cull him.
Today he throws away thoughts of those that drain him of something he has no name for. Now he trails closer towards the one who he has devoted himself to, in much the same way as he asks for his own devotion. Silver eyes lift up to meet those of Eden, noting the sly turn of his lip and offering a silent snarl in return at the words. Eden knows him by now, understands that his visible display is directed at the idea of children rather than the King himself.
"Children, all of them, reek. It is a stench I am unable to quench."
His slithering vocals hold a note of contempt and lack any pride. When the pups are older, perhaps, his outlook on them will change. Pups are different than adults and it is a wonder that they turn into such beings. Eden motions him closer and so he slides towards him, his uneven jackal gait bringing him up and around the side of the male, pausing to sit beside him. It meant nothing to Underidge - not that they were equals because he does not equal Eden, exactly, but that they are comrades even when Eden is above him. It is an odd dynamic that he also cannot put a name to.
"Tell me who and I will hunt." There is a definite eagerness in his voice, the wicked gleam in his eyes measured by the twitch in his shoulder blades. The urge to cull, to appease both his god and his obsession burn within him, driven likely by the complacency that has pressed into him with the birth of all his children. He didn't know, really, what had happened to Eden's child; he smelled the change in the air, understood it, but didn't really care how it happened. Only that Eden's eyes tell his displeasure and that is unacceptable. Underidge did not offer out of any sense of honor for Ehiyeh but because he would assuage whatever bothers the King. A deep, approving rumble through his chest is all the answer Eden will get to his open admiration of Underidge; such sentimental things cannot be spoken aloud by the silver lurker yet he is assured that Eden understands. His loyalty has always been his greatest statement.
UNDERIDGE
EIGHT - MALE - NO HEART - STARSHADE'S SOUL
OF GLORALL - ENDERLY X BANSHEE - KILL COUNT (IIII)