dust the apple off, savor each bite.

[Samael Lykoi]

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mall-caps;color:#660000;">He pulled out the dagger and marveled in the pain he could create.

Snowflakes fluttered lightly through the early morning gloom, landing with a soft hiss on the snow-strewn sands of the beach. The sea was iron-gray and choppy, silenced by distance and the quiet that seemed to settle with the coming of winter and the falling of snow. Sitting on the trunk of a fallen tree, dark hair fell between his fingers, hacked and cut away by the steel knife held in one hand. Something different. A change that was needed, spurred by the negative feelings that he'd brought with him after returning from his search of the surrounding areas. Like a dark sickness rising in his blood and gripping at his soul, anger and depression clawed at his insides, inspired still by the abscence of Kaena and the madness that grew within his head. He hadn't found her. She wasn't anywhere nearby any longer, if even still in this world. He'd ventured further and further away looking for her, but come up without even the trace of a scent or ghost of a footprint. There was no longer anyone around that he was remotely pleased at the sight of. Just hollowness and hatred birthed by his very nature, and descent from that.

He'd grown even gaunter and hollow in the past months from lack of need or desire to eat and remaining almost constantly on the move. Coat once filled with gold had darkened to an almost unnatural color, leaving just traces of a lighter shade beneath the guard hairs. Fingers ran through his mane, savoring the rough, spikey edges that he'd created in the back, leaving the front long as ragged as ever hanging across his face. Returning the knife to it's sheath in the belt of the jeans he wore, he snorted snowflakes from his nose and turned to regard the house just visible in the distance. Gabriel was obviously still leader, with Kaena's lingering abscence and he wondered vaguely if his older sibling had even notice his own scarcity. Or if anyone had. It didn't even matter, honestly. He'd rather they hadn't, for he didn't feel much like answering any inquiries. Loyalty to the clan was waning along with his prescence, and he mused briefly it was even worth it to linger around.

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[Gabriel de le Poer]

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indent The scent of his brother had been strong, stronger then it had been in weeks, maybe months. Gabriel’s days had long since blurred together. Still, he walked without any rush, a simple quiet pace that indicated he was not concerned with anything. The cigarette in his hand had long since burnt out and been cast away, but the scent hung around him like a false halo. His long hair, while clean, fluttered in the wind and into his face. Soon enough, he found Samael—though he looked little like himself, now nearly completely black.
indent This meant something different to Gabriel, who had long ago had his coat turned the same shade (though not completely, not like that). Advancing, the distance between them was kept comfortable; Gabriel had spotted the knife quickly, and did not trust Samael. Still, he believed his brother was not half as stupid as Andre to try and bring him down. “Where have you been?”

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[Samael Lykoi]

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mall-caps;color:#660000;">He pulled out the dagger and marveled in the pain he could create.

It wasn't long before his solitude was disturbed, first by his brother's scent, carried on a snow-laden wind and interwined with the odor of cigarettes, then followed by Gabriel himself. Crimson eyes resting on his brother's face, he saw gold eyes linger on his knife and held back the faint smirk that threatened to slink across his lips. It figured Gabriel didn't trust him, especially with a weapon. And he was probably right to. They'd never exactly been a very loving pair (the scars on his face attested to that), and Samael wasn't opposed to murder, even of his own family and blood.

And just as he'd suspected the question came. So it seemed Gabriel had noticed he wasn't around as much, if at all. "Does it matter?" he inquired lightly, scratching at a spot on his cheek. "I've been around. Miss me?" Here he finally did allow some trace of sarcastic amusement to grace his lips, even if his eyes remained just as cold and humorless as before.

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[Gabriel de le Poer]

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indent When the first blood had been drawn, it had not been without reason. Gabriel shifted his weight, tilting his head slightly, and listened. The explanation was no more then he assumed, but it suited Samael just fine. Coyotes were, after all, solitary by nature. Besides, they had not needed the boy—though perhaps sometime soon they might. “Certainly,” he offered coolly, sarcasm faint. “You know you’re an uncle now,” he added.

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[Samael Lykoi]

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xxxxxSmile lingered at Gabriel's response before fading back into a usual mask of indifference as he continued. "Ooh?", he replied at this new information, otherwise giving no reaction. "Well, congratulations then, brother, on bringing more of us into the world." His lip curled in amusement. So Gabriel had made children, continuing their line. He wondered if it was with that mate of his, or through some twist of fate, another.
xxxxxWhile Samael would sooner eat than raise any children he happened to create, it wasn't the hardest thing to imagine himself with offspring, and even with a queen at his side. Though whether he desired such a thing was another matter entirely. He'd willingly continue the Lykoi's legacy, breaking forth more of their blood into the world, but never willingly chain himself to another soul with ties of love and intimacy.
xxxxxHe'd grow too bored, far too quickly.

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[Gabriel de le Poer]

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indent Quiet and collected, the yellow-eyed man regarded his brother with indifferent. Samael was smaller then him, weaker then him. If it came down to it, he would kill him. Still, Inferni remained small and thus needed what they could get. They had been whittled down to family, related by blood or marriage, and that was one of the weak points Gabriel saw. Spring and summer, he was sure, they would see more arrivals. That had been the cycle for years now.
indent “You should also be aware that Andrezej is no longer a part of this clan. If he crosses our borders, treat him no differently then any wolf.” The unspoken threat was very real. Hurt him, kill him, whatever you see fit. Gabriel had no time for traitors or those who would not obey his word when he demanded it (which had become very rarely, these days).

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[Samael Lykoi]

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xxxxxAt his words a small smile was given, otherwise showing no reaction to the information that Andrezej had been removed from Inferni. While he didn't know the details, he could only imagine what the younger coyote had done to cause himself to be treated the same as a trespassing wolf, a traitor amongst a clan so comprised of blood. Though these ties hardly seemed to matter any longer in present state. But Samael was no fool — he wouldn't start asinine fights without a purpose in mind, or until situation tipped in his favor, and he wasn't blind to the fact that Gabriel was physically bigger and more powerful than him, despite his own size. He could only attribute this to the wolf's blood that flowed through his veins, thicker than in Samael who's father had been solely coyote.
xxxxxInstead, he'd simply have to wait until his back was turned, thrusting the knife between his shoulder-blades when least expected, like a serpent sliding unseen through the grass, using lies and deception to achieve his goals. Andre was a fool. He'd failed in his attempts to overthrow the king and thus branded himself a traitor banned for treason, outcasted eternally unless the hierarchy tipped, crowning a king or queen who'd welcome him back into their ranks. Or unless he returned and succeeded this time, claiming himself as Inferni's king, but Samael doubted this.

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[Gabriel de le Poer]

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indent What had happened was between Gabriel and Andrezej, and thus the two of them were bound by its action. Gabriel had let the boy live for one simple reason—the blood bond they shared. If he saw what the boy had become, twisted by his own disease, then perhaps the Aquila would have relented regret and struck him down then and there. In time, this concept would evolve into an idea that had the potential to come to veracity.
indent Gabriel was well aware that a natural resentment would live in his brothers. Pushing this to murderous heights was only the call of the blood. After all, it had been Gabriel who had struck Samael first, long before the child had grown into an adult. That nail would never be pulled from their coffin. Offering no response to the smile, Gabriel turned, intending to continue with his patrol.

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