So it ever was. So will it always be. Such is the nature of evil.
For too long the silver-tipped beast had been away from his master’s side. A ghost in the shadows he had once been but an actual ghost in the last few seasons. Glorall probably did not even miss his presence. Eden likely was the only one who knew of it. Kamala, too, perhaps. Fated though they might be, Underidge knew well that fate was a fickle thing. He had felt that same pull for multiple female’s in his life. Starshade and Kamala were but two. It is likely that Kamala had found another soul to bond with, although the idea didn’t sit well with Underidge.
His absence had stemmed from his kidnapping of Blackthorne’s firstborn son, a direct retaliation of what his bastard child had tried to do for him. Not to mention he had heard from Matianak what the boy called himself. The Shade. An abomination – a blasphemy! It had burned the god within him to such ferocity that Underidge had not had any choice in the matter. Not that he had wanted to change it.
Only, he should have killed the pup instead of taking him. Blackthorne had successfully recaptured the disgusting tyke and left a few scars along Underidge’s face as well for the effort. The older male had wandered then, at a distance, watching the travels of his blighted son and grandson. Reminiscing of things he should have done. Blaming Sarabi for his lack of will to do them.
Now, finally, many moon’s later, he had chosen to return to Glorall in the pit of winter. Honestly, he had hoped the Shade would whisper the name of Tesseract to him. That he might be able to bring Eden the head of his former rival, white fur and shocked face. Instead he drags a white moose head in his jaw. Underidge has lost weight in his travels. He had dragged the moose head hundreds of miles and had struggled to take down the beast, then to tear through muscle, bone, and sinew to sever it. It was the closest thing to a Tesseract he could get.
It is large, a strain, and his jaws perpetually ache from carrying it, but finally, after weeks and weeks of travel, he has arrived.
The Thorn drops the had to the snowy ground with a grunt, head hanging low, legs spread apart as he pants in the cold before offering a very curt and quick bark that breaks into a stunted howl. Eden, he calls. I am home.
UNDERIDGE
THIRTEEN - MALE - NO HEART – KAMALA’S SOUL
OF GLORALL - ENDERLY X BANSHEE - KILL COUNT (IIII)