It was not comfort that came from the status quo. It was a quiet reassurance that nothing worse was happening for the while. It was something he expected to happen eventually because that was just how things went and maybe if he expected it for once, then it wouldn't be so bad. Of course, such thinking lent itself to paranoia, but the hybrid had picked up a haphazard sort of apathy instead. It wasn't consistent either and drifted like the fog -- currently, it was thick and heavy and he walked through it like a ghost, a raised corpse in the night. He still believed himself to be one in some way; his throat had been slashed, hadn't it?



Maybe he had caught the scent straight on, or maybe it was simply a coincidence. By the time he got there though, he didn't remember anymore (if he had ever known) and the white space between them melted away to a thin grey. There was no expression on his face and that didn't change when he stopped walking. You don't belong here, he said evenly, red eyes staring down at the child. It was the only one left that he didn't clearly remember having spoken to before and the one that had turned out the worst according to Faolin. So Laruku doubted that he would be hurt like Rachias or quiet and sad like Arkham; he knew what he expected, but whether it would play out like that was yet to be seen.

He should have been able to guess (and maybe he had) that this son had already met his real and actual father, the grinning demon who would only love to see the world in utter chaos. Maybe it was why this one was growing up so bad or maybe it was something that had been foreordained. Laruku wasn't inclined to believe that cruelty was in the blood, but insanity could be carried through it and certainly he was, and certainly Kaena was. But if it had been any other slightly-off wolfess, if this child had been born anywhere else other than Inferni -- would he have turned out this way? And why do you want to learn that? he wondered in the same empty voice. To kill was a necessity to survival; prey didn't just drop dead on their own. But from the signs of a semi-recent fight still lingering on his son, the hybrid doubted that Andre was there looking for pointers on how to wrestle a rabbit.



But sociopaths and maniacal killers often grew skillful in their ways of deception and the father waited to see if these were already present in the pup before him. It was amazing sometimes how quickly these things came to be -- how old were they now? Already? Had it been nearly half a year since the day they had been born? The measurement of time was an odd one for him and another sudden realization of his just how long it's been and how old he was. The very same day his children were set to turn into yearlings, he would be four years old and starting the downward decline. And every day, he would continue to wonder why he'd been allowed to live so long.

Well, he supposed he couldn't really deny the truth of the response he got and regardless of the impression he had already been given by others about his son, he didn't really know how to directly apply that here when the child had really given him no reason to distrust him. And as deceptive as he knew appearances to be, what could he do or say? No, because I know you're going to grow up a psychopath? The thought crossed his mind that maybe he should really just kill Andre himself before someone else had a reason to. He heard the laugh at the back of his head, but truly and honestly, he didn't know if the murderous idea was his own or the demon's, or boths because they were the same. He couldn't claim to know how the boy before him would turn out in the end, but it was such a dangerous chance. He was already a baby killer; nothing would change there, except one more potential crazy would be gone from the future.



Sure, he answered, sitting, But why ask me? Gabriel is more accessible to you; have you already asked him? I didn't teach you to kill, he wanted to say. That was someone who isn't here anymore and would hopefully never be again.

Oh, really? the father inquired with a raised eyebrow, I doubt anyone else perceives either Gabriel or Inferni to be 'weak as hell'. But they were dangerous words, the words of someone who wished desperately for change. And it was clear that this one was still too young, but. Nip it in the bud; do it while you still can. And you want to take him on, huh? Why? What do you hope to accomplish there? It's why he wanted to learn to fight and it was why he would not ask his brother for the help he needed. And in the end, it would be why Laruku would not help him either. He knew he had it in him to kill his own son. He was just that fucked up of a bastard -- he had it in him, but would he? Kaena was gone. He doubted that Gabriel would care if he had actually fought him already. And the rest of the litter? Would they care? What are you trying to do, Andre?