The Darkbringer had not really considered what the birth of his own pups would mean. It was mostly hormones, a full blown testosterone fit, that had led him to this very point. Eve's belly rounded and Gazmala's followed. He was disappointed Kahina's did not, though he rather enjoyed chasing her and the attempts in such for he could not longer vent such frustrations on the other two. He was young, virile, and set loose on the world. Each step is like a slam to the earth, decrying the very nature of things: HE was the top of the food chain. IT was simple a means to get around.

The call of the wild, that is what it was, when the instinct to mate and procreate was so strong it overrode everything else. Except, of course, aggression, which was Thorne's forte. In his earlier youth he had been a whirlwind of rage and fury. Sharp teeth, angry words, hateful heart. With time grew maturity and then cleverness; one could make the world bow with a few words and misspoken thoughts. When it wobbled, aggression could break it down further.

Grimoire had spoken to him with her wildness. The whites of her eyes had screamed at him of a madness that lingered in the depths of his own. He was a mercurial beast, much the same as his forefathers, with a temper that bordered on volcanic in the right conditions. Cue testosterone and a sudden tail attack. She strikes like a cobra and he spins like a viper, silver lips peeled back to reveal his pristine fangs as they aim for her maw. She yowls, he hisses. Two dark creatures meeting with a violent delight; he will rake his teeth across her offending maw if she is not quick enough to yank it back, though he does not press his advantage as he takes in the scent of Grimoire. Not because of her condition - he did not care if she was pregnant. They were not his and if they died, well, the better. It is simply because it is her and did she have a use for that madness or could he give her one?

image by Sanctuare/html by Ally courtesy of Riley