So it ever was. So will it always be. Such is the nature of evil.
It was all so confusing. The beast that he is demands things to be simplified: his, or not. Submissive or dominant. Kamala has thrown a wrench into his carefully constructed world. She is both his and Eden's, and because that second half was the one he followed, believed in, then she was technically off limits. It is a conundrum that his frayed mind struggles to comprehend as he spins and gnashes his teeth, odd silver eyes flicking to her frequently. Kamala is pretty with her lush colors, even if she did not compare to Paravana. Somehow, Paravana had become immortalized in his mind, the epitome of desire, or perfection, even though he had been forced to kill her for her weakness.
Each moment that he makes a decision - to leave, to stay, to command, to assert - he is thwarted by a differnet set of thoughts and spins away. Kamala laughs at him once more, making his ears pin, and he spins on a snarl as he strides towards her with more purpose than before. I don't belong to anyone. The words make his hackles rise again, his sole intent upon her, so that he stops with their breath mingling.
"My... soul. You are mine." It is a broken way of explaining it. She should FEEL it, he thinks. That snap, that bind, because he felt it.
Being so near to her is tempting, the need to drive his teeth into her flesh strong, but even more than that, the need to merely inhale her. To touch her, to be touched by her. It could be there is a stark loneliness within Underidge that he has never known was there. Or if could be that he was just splintering in the mind, unable to resist instincts. Still, his snouth edges forward with the intent to brush his nose against hers, to see what she would feel, what he would feel.
"Mine," he breathes.
UNDERIDGE
EIGHT - MALE - NO HEART - STARSHADE'S SOUL
OF GLORALL - ENDERLY X BANSHEE - KILL COUNT (IIII)