She watched him; her pale blue eyes lingered across his (to her mind) decrepit figure. Foul, aging, ghastly thing he had become. At this rate, he should never have come out of his hovel. Her sire should have just stayed there and let himself just rot away. At least Eden had the sense to walk away before weakness actually took him. To know one's limits was not weakness, but rather a sign that a wolf knew their time was ending and let go gracefully. Underidge was no such wolf.

She vaguely remembered that day. While she held no emotional attachment to her mother, it was still her mother who had succumbed to sickness and was put out of her misery. Better that way, Matianak believed. As a result, all she had in the way of guidance was a father who had no emotional attachment to them, at least not a positive one. The grey woman may not have known all of his inner workings, but there was not denying the fact Under would always crawl back to Eden. She could see it in his eyes. She had merely been the wolf along his path that might point him in the right direction.

Frail as he seemed, he was not completely lost in his form. There was at least that much she could give him. However, Matianak in her ever constant watching saw the flex of his muscles as he launched himself forward. The woman was quick to back-pedal out of his initial gnashing of teeth. Far too close for her own liking, that much was certain. Her movement backwards was far less graceful than she typically moved, but her legs took it in stride as she immediately pressed in on him.

Matianak couldn't help but laugh at his words as she moved in. She knew he spoke of Eden, of what their Fortitude should have done to the Here and Now. "And yet, you didn't," she said, ideally in his ear. She expected to feel teeth after this, but not if she didn't get him first. "Can't you hear it? The Shade is screaming for you," Matianak said. Her voice was oddly cool and calm. Let this rattle his nerves. If Underidge backed away, she would pursue. If he tried to strike again, her teeth were waiting as she snapped at nearby fur and flesh at his head, neck, or shoulder. Whatever was near enough to give him a bite, just enough to let him know she was not afraid of him.

Did Underidge really want to knock on Death's door today?