The four children that Samael had spawned with the jackal woman were as different from each other as they were from their mother and father. He could have said many things about them, but he held his tongue. It did not matter what he thought. Enkiel did not have a need to show his emotions. Only stillness. Only that quiet, observant reptile-gaze.
Uncle. She was his sister then? "Enkiel." The jackal’s gaze dropped to the boy, whom he nodded to briefly (the boy seemed to be as disinterested in this conversation as any child would be) before looking up to the red-eyed woman again. Of course he should have recognized her gaze. It was his father’s. “Are you his child from before, then?” He asked, studying her even now. She did not seem fond of his family—perhaps she was not fond of his father either.
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