Beneath his paw was not a place for the meek; it required loyalty and obedience, even a dash of madness. The wolves that had taken up residence within the confines of Iromar understood and accepted it. Even Adrian, fool girl though she was. Where he touched, darkness followed, and he had seen it festering in the female. It was pleasing to see the way it changed her from the inside out, a rot that grew and molded and overcame. Just like him. Despite coming into this world a raging spirit, somehow he had not been culled, even with an insane father.

It was disappointing that Matianak could not be swayed but almost simultaneously interesting. He did not act precipitously towards her because she was methodical. She played the quiet game while his was loud and screaming. Her words are met with a chuff of laughter, approval in his face. "Blind, deafen, and rip their tongues out." Handicap them. Make them suffer. It was there in the vicious line of his face, the hate, the fury. He did not admire Arturio because it was not in him to admire one who he disliked. The only thing he thought of when he considered the white wolf was death.

Bloody.

One ear cocks towards Matianak, noting her words. She was a manipulator too and his lips coil into a small smile. Whoever this friend was, he did not know just who he had befriended then. He paces and she watches, offering a sort of caution that makes him grin widely at her, darkly. "You are not the only clever one, Mat." He would find what he could about these children and who they belonged to. And if he found what he wanted...

He pauses, slowly seating himself so he faced her with a wicked look of satisfaction on his face. "It would seem we have more family than father ever cared to admit. I have in my possession an uncle younger than Underidge. And what a mighty store he has told. Did you know, Matianak, that we had a grandfather up until recently by the name of Enderly? Or that we might have another uncle younger even than ourselves by the name of Shadow running around here somewhere?" He tilts his head curiously, a devious smirk on his face. "And from what I can piece together our grandfather was murdered on behest of our father by a black she-wolf." No other words are said because none have to. She was smart, she would know of whom he spoke. "I suppose dearest daddy has a favorite now." He tests her, pushing, trying to draw a clear line in the sand that would forever thrust her out from the light of Underidge, to divide. Divide so he could conquer.

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