So it ever was. So will it always be. Such is the nature of evil.
The trip back to Glorall is a painful and exceedingly drawn out one considering the distance. What should have taken a mere few hours has last almost the entirety of the day for the silver-tipped male fell unconscious a few times, the pain lumbering and roiling in time with the furious God that coiled within him. The Shade sensed his weakness in these moments and it rebelled. Would it abandon him? Would it abandon him as his own leader did?
The basis of his life revolved around the Shade and the following of Eden. The last words that Blackthorne had whispered into his ragged ears, riddled with a few holes from bite wounds, was that the price he paid was earned. That he should not have tread foot so far away from his master to cause such a mess. His heart burned. It raged and burned, the desire to rip the silver snout off his bastard child so strong it was a wonder that Underidge had not picked himself off the silt of Iromar to raze him to the ground.
Yet the words had struck home and it was kept him embroiled within an ever deepening madness amidst the pain as his own silver and gray coated daughter led him back to Glorall resolutely. When Blackthorne had commanded her to return him home with a message, she had turned her owl eyes upon him in shock, then determination and nodded without a word. Each time he fell, his flesh shredded on his forelegs from claws and face lined with cuts and gashes, she would grab his scruff and pull gently to get him up. When he didn't rise, she would drag and the pain from that would jolt him up.
"Dead," he hisses to her on the last fall, near the edge of Glorall, turning his hate filled odd eyes upon her as she pulls back with a stalwart look.
"You both should have died at birth. Abominations!" He spits out, saliva dripping from his teeth mixed with blood and the moment he comes to a well worn path, he sits, breath heaving as Natiya lets loose a hauntingly beautiful call for Eden.
She stands with a pleasant expression on her face, never giving voice to any misgivings that she might have, ignoring the punch in her gut at Underidge's words. It wasn't that she did not wish to follow her follower, but Blackthorne was first and her brother had given her a mission. As his Silverknife, she could not disappoint. Movement catches her eyes and when she spies Eden, known from afar merely by his stance and coloring, she lifts her head slightly, a breeze rolling across her soft fur as she stands before the border, never crossing.
"Eden. I am Natiya, Silverknife of Iromar. Blackthorne has tasked for me to bring our father back to you. He says that he has completed his part of your bargain and will hold you accountable when next you meet. Your Thorn has no lasting injuries and will still be effective for duty if you have need. The Darkbringer hopes you will understand that he is a wolf of his word and be the same." She pauses now, tilting her head elegantly as if waiting to see what the King might have to say in reply to take back to her brother.
UNDERIDGE
EIGHT - MALE - NO HEART - STARSHADE'S SOUL
OF GLORALL - ENDERLY X BANSHEE - KILL COUNT (IIII)