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This was a silent child, not at all the same as the loud stereotype image of a young puppy. The beast was grateful for that much, but this was not necessarily for the better. Conor’s spirit had been destroyed quickly with violence and cruelty, though he had slipped away between the father’s fingers and sought sanctuary with the pack’s caretaker. Had he been Rosen then things would not have turned out as they had, but Conor too was one of the few selected offspring that seemed promising to the large secui. There was no doubt he was his father’s child despite the unique colouration of his eyes. As long as blue was untainted from brown, there was always a chance for his family line to inhabit various hues of blue mixed with other colours.
The young voice next to him interrupted the beast’s absent thoughts and he actually glared at the child for a moment, surprised the young soul dared to speak before being spoken to. Ears perked sharply, forming a set of devil horns on top of his head for a brief moment before the light rage danced away from his scarred features. ”You,” was the large male’s simple answer. The beast had yet to determine whether or not he would make an effort turning the boy. ”Where is your mother?” he asked, perhaps aiming to derail the boy in case he wanted to continue his questioning. Children were such curious creatures.
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