Some days, he found himself more emotional than others. It was an uncomfortable feeling, something he was not readily prepared to reveal to the rest of his clans mates - in fact, he would be hard pressed to ever find a reason to reveal any sort of emotion he might have to anyone besides his sister, Ilusion. The dark man had become sort of a recluse in Inferni; not necessarily avoiding the rest of the pack that wasn't his intention at all - but his dark nature was secret to no-one. It was hard to come across as anything different when your red eyes were either burning with antagonistic fire or were otherwise blank. Columbine doubted a cheerful look had come across his face since he entered Inferni. Then again, that wasn't in his nature.
The one thing that could, with some consistency, make him smile, was Ilusion. His lovely sister was the only one of his siblings he actually liked. Helotes, he resented (though Columbine would not vocalize it, he could not help but be disgusted with his brother's high rank); Jacinto, he deplored for the male's innate weakness. Family, something that had once been so important to him, was no longer such a potent, driving force in his life. What was the point? There was no gratitude for everything he had done for them. Without Columbine, the siblings would not be alive. Kerberos would have had his way with them, probably beating them into the blissfully dark oblivion. But to prevent that from happening, Columbine stepped in the way and defended the siblings he once loved so much.
It was really not a shock that Columbine became the creature he was. Certainly, he was arrogant and proud, dismissive of all who he thought beneath him - which, in actuality, were most creatures. But the dark man had secrets and demons, the most prevalent being his almost overwhelming self hatred. He consistently trained and beat his body into submission, forcing through the pain to be as physically perfect as possible. But he could not erase the scars that ruined him. He hated each and every one, but he held a special place in his dark and twisted heart for the one that tore off his Lykoi tattoo. Columbine felt a sort of disconnect from the rest of his family because he was so drastically different and tainted. The splash of orange across his nose might also mark him as a Lykoi, but it could also be a genetic coincidence. For all some knew, Columbine could be an outsider to the genetically superior family. He could be a fraud.
The feeling of not being quite good enough was his motivation. Under the safe cover of night, the man ran many miles until his lungs felt like they would explode and he panted so hard rivers of saliva streamed from his mouth. At the end of these runs, Columbine looked the part of a fiery, all consumed demon; the evil that lived within him came to surface in these moments. He was furious at himself for not being able to go longer, and so Columbine punished himself with the lifting of heavy rocks. He was careful to remain far away from the rest of the sleeping clan when he did this, but the smashing of near boulders echoed easily through the lands; he would not surprised if, one day, someone came across him. Naturally, he hoped it wasn't Helotes. Perfect, flawless, wonderful Helotes, the dark golden child of their small family. He would always be the handsome one, now that Columbine was so ruined. He sacrificed himself for his brothers' rise; he would never forgive them.
Somehow, he managed to forgive Ilusion. Moreover, he never resented his lovely sibling. Columbine would sacrifice himself, again and again, to ensure her safety, such was the depth of his love for the only daughter of Kerberos. Perhaps it was his deep focus on his sister that led him towards the lands; he thought he smelled a familiar scent, lovely and warm, that was, unfortunately, mingled with Helotes' own particular odor. It was wishful thinking, he knew, to assume that Ilusion was here. The shadowy demon had never quite surrendered hope that she was fine, but the pessimist in him assumed she had fallen victim to someone larger and meaner than she. He was ashamed he doubted her wily and survivalist nature; while Columbine gave himself most of the credit for the siblings' survival, he could not deny that Ilusion's own nature also helped her live.
The scent grew more powerful, and Columbine broke into a run. He saw the two figures and two horses - he hadn't yet managed to break his new red stallion, though he spent a decent amount of time with the high spirited equine - and recognized them both. Hermana, he whispered, his voice low and shocked. A softness came across the normally hard face, and a true, wide smile broke across it. The man was significantly more handsome this way; it was a drastic shift. Ilusión, mi querida hermana, estás vivo! Usted está aquí! He bound towards them, even extending a wide smile to Columbine before approaching Ilusion. Columbine froze for a moment, drinking in her healthy, vibrant frame. Te extrañé tanto. Estaba tan asustada, Ilu, yo estaba muy asustada. Pensé que ... Pensé que te habías ido. He threw his arms around her and drew the smaller girl close, drinking in her scent. Estamos juntos otra vez, gracias a Dios, estamos juntos otra vez.
After a moment, Columbine did a shocking thing. He stepped away from Ilusion, though he kept one arm around her, and reached an arm to Helotes. It was a sign of momentary truce from the man, something that could not be expected to be seen again. Columbine wanted his two siblings within his grasp, to feel their warm bodies underneath his. For a moment he struggled to find words to appropriately invite the other man into his embrace, but nothing seemed appropriate. Mi hermano, he finally whispered, umber eyes locked on Helotes'. It was quite an uncharacteristic gesture; Columbine wouldn't be surprised if Helotes were taken aback as well.
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