Every day he took more and more time to focus on separating Aspis from the girls. The boy had grown to watch for his vists with a sort of fervor that Blackthorne approved of, even if he did not outwardly say it. It was in the subtle way he moved, allowing the boy more freedom, in the mere hum under his breath. This experiment was going well yet it wouldn't if everyone knew it was an experiment. Suffice it to say, the Darkbringer was in a pleased sort of mood this afternoon as he took Aspis through winding trails near the waterways of Iromar, stopping frequently to demand the boy try his task.

Kill an alligator baby. That was his goal and yet each time he failed, more frustrated than the last, and the Darkbringer merely offered a slanting of his eyes to show his disapproval. Did the boy not have the skill of a hunter? That wasn't altogether true as Aspis frequently caught small game when given the chance. Blackthorne had the pups on a strict once-a-day feeding with the exception of if Adrian brought them more or Aspis caught an extra small critter. Only one. He would learn how to hunt with that edge of hunger. Blackthorne knew the boy sacrificed his own intense hunger, his body sprouting swiftly, to make sure the girls were fed, and he wanted to see if it would drive the boy to be better.

It seemed he was cursed though. He could dig up an alligator egg, catch a beaver, or a jackrabbit, but not an alligator baby. What was going on?

Aspis arrives back at the small dirt overhang with a dejected and somewhat mean look on his face, dirt caking his paws and around his muzzle, and the Darkbringer offers a loud, disappointed sigh. One ear flicks at the calling of Beltane nearby and suddenly he perks up. "Come, princeling. You've seen some of my corporeal pursuits, now it is time for you to learn of more arcane arts." The boy does not answer, merely follows along as the Darkbringer begins a fast clip, speeding around curved trees with agile ease, the boy at his tail with a determined look but a less graceful lope. His body is all angles and sharp edges. He is broad, with a wide face like his grandmother, but his legs are still yet too tall for his body and his hunger is like a sore within him. He is not malnourished but neither does he look completely fit.

He finds the witch near the boneyard, a smirk bridging across his silver muzzle, and the Darkbringer pauses nearby to inspect her eggs. Aspis approaches too, leaning forward to sniff one of the eggs with a distinct look of one who might snatch it up. Thorne casts him a glance out of the side of his eye, an amused tilt to his mouth as he wonders if Aspis will do just that and if Beltane would punish him. Thorne certainly wouldn't. "Is it egg harvesting season, Beltane? I must have missed the memo," Thorne says glibly, a question in his tone, curious as to what arcane purpose she had with these. "Are you gonna eat all these?" The words suddenly fly from the boys mouth, deep and accusing, his dark emerald eyes glaring at her almost balefully.