How much had he been expecting what he saw? What Jefferson had predicted was a disgruntled, bad-tempered half-brother with little patience to see him, and to some extent the cyclops was right. The Valley leader took a hesitant step back at what he was met with: He had known Haku to be unpredictable especially as of late, and had been told more than once that the war raged due to his half-brother's madness. At first, Jefferson had been willing to argue, having been led to believe that no good came of Inferni. But as the stench of blood filtered through his nostrils and even his scarred, colorless eye opened slightly in sheer alarm at the sight of his unabashedly dripping, malevolent brother.
His tattered ears twitched, but they did not flatten in submission. Rosea or not, Haku held no control over him, and the cyclops established himself by standing tall and undaunted. "You've been busy," the brute observed, eye thinning in suspicion. What had he just walked into? Whose blood was that? Was Addison safe? Mew? And why would either of them submit to such a leader? "Haku, this needs to stop," the cyclops growled. "This war is good for no one."