Following the taint

[Vark Granel]

Varks ear quivered in astonishment. He listened as he heard that it was the pack leader that he was loyal to was the one that had brought the Dahlia de Mai harm. It was he who had brought the war. Vark suddenly felt very vulnerable. He had begun to feel safe again, but he realised what Conor was saying was true. He subconsciously drew closer to the other boy. All the horrible things that he had heard of the chocolate demon in charge of the Dahlia de Mai. Of the death and destruction. And worse. Vark looked up againto Conors face as he warned Vark. Again he was astounded and impressed by his friends wisdom and foresight. He had been feeling those exact needs, for rage and vengence. He had even hoped to learn from their leader, in the art of death. But the more Vark thought about it, the more he realised it most certainly sounded better than it looked. Killing for fun, or sport was wrong, his father had told him. Over and over. Enjoying others pain was wrong. Vark had nodded, frightened by his fathers intensity, and had vowed never to enjoy another's pain, nor kill out of sport. Yet in most recent times, Vark could think of nothing but the mutilated corpses of the killers of his family. Vark turned away, to hide the grimace that came to his face, and to wipe away the tear of bitter sadness and loss.

Vark's sadness was forgotten though as his friend said he could stay. Vark bounced around like a little puppy, wagging his tail and his tongue lolling out.
"Thank you Conor" He said still bouncing. "I can help you get food. Or anything you need help with!" Vark stopped bouncing, having realised how silly he probably looked, acting like a puppy.
"When can I come over to live at your place?" Vark asked, addressing the wall slightly to the left of Conor's very blurry head.