Ahhh, Penobscot. XD
Inferni probably had expected it of him, or at least his mother and Anselm should have. Inferni would learn soon that Razekiel was not "one" of them, so-to-say; the bloodthirsty morals that the clan had always lived by were long dead in the straw-eyed boy, though the most basic of emotions that he had been raised around still resided somewhere within his chest, primarily left to rest and unheeded. Razekiel was the earth's child, no longer just another crazed spawn of the deadly coyotes; the legacy he was born with, the expectations he had once abided by, and the title "Prince of Deceit" were something of the past, something he willingly chose to give up when he could have easily conquered any given enemy with such lineage and strength both behind him and in his every step.
Instead, he became a wanderer. Inferni was his home now, or at least some place he could return to when the winter came full force, but even after his long absence and the great separation between he and his family that resided there, Razekiel still found himself following his feet miles away, perfectly content to breathe the crisp, cool tint of autumn air and watch the auburn leaves fall -- leaves that had shifted in color to match his red mask and straw eyes. He'd smoked some mind-altering substance at some point earlier in the day, but the present time had left him only with a plain cigarette and his acoustic in his hands. The earth-loving idiot had taught himself to sing and play whilst balancing the tar stick in his mouth; it took some maneuvering with the tongue, but that was nothing. Razekiel had done far more with his tongue than he cared to talk about.
Ah, where was he? What did it matter; the air was fresh and clean, perhaps the remnants of rain in the area. The ground was somewhat damp beneath his bare feet, making a pleasurable squishy sound as he trampled along contentedly. Oh, a lake. Well, he was rather thirsty. One-track-minded, the dark-furred hybrid bent down to his knees, cupped his hands in the water, and slipped the fluid into his mouth without a second thought. It was not until a few more handfuls of drink that he stopped and stared at the water's color, but it hardly slowed him down. He noticed the presence of another momentarily despite his slightly dizzied head and off-tune humming, at which point he popped his cigarette back into his mouth, inhaled deeply, and grinned steaming and smoking teeth at the stranger from the distance. "The water tastes like magic, my brother," Razekiel murmured, straightening the circular glasses atop his nose.