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Oh, my, my, you're oh so sly.
___ Andrezej. Continued from here.
Let's leave unsaid what's left unspoken.
___ Hybrid cackled loudly, delighted at the sheer curiosity of this boy. He knew what he wanted, and most importantly, he knew what he wanted to know. He knew that he was not yet intelligent enough to go about his own business without first gathering the necessary information, organizing it, and in some time, understanding it. Perhaps now he was able to grasp the basic concepts, simple underlying truths that frequented much of Hybrid's speech. The atrocity that was the wolf, the disgrace that they were to all living canines. Perhaps he might note the more subtle ideas, the thought of killing a wolf and using everything he had to his advantage. A fight was not simply two creatures rushing at one another: it was a beautiful art of thought, time, words, teeth, claws, blood, and so much more. The winner was the one with the experience, or the knowledge, or perhaps the sheer luck. There were many factors that could determine the victor of a fight, that could allow one to slay another. There was much to take into account, and Hybrid hoped that some day, this child would be able to gain experience and figure out his own way of maiming and killing.
___ His cackle dwindled down into a malicious sneer, and he continued to regard the boy with a critical eye. "I won't lie to you, kid. They're pretty stupid, but don't ever underestimate your enemy. No matter how many mistakes they make, you don't know what they will do. Or for that matter, what they will say. A wolf might trick you into doing something you don't mean, mostly because they are extremely stubborn. If they can't hurt you one way, they'll try another. They're tricky creatures, and while they're not too smart, that doesn't mean they can't pretend to know what they're talking about." He paused, eyeing the boy once more. Although he was not necessarily describing what a wolf looked like, or what they smelled like, this sort of information was invaluable in its own respect. The boy would form his own opinions of wolves in due time, but Hybrid's stereotyping of wolves was how he saw them, and was how many others before him had regarded them.
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Andrezej knew well of thin lines. There was a thin line between envy and jealousy, and that was drawn between him and Samael. His older brother was definitely enviable, but Andre was more jealous that the older 'yote had been born on prophecy and for a purpose, made to be as he was and born on the day of evil. He himself was just a mistake, an unwanted child from an unwanted seed, but one formed of sheer lust. This being so, it was pretty certain that his life would form around lust and not love; chaos was his medium, and his life would tip precariously between outright commotion—this would involve the sheer sadistic and sociopathic lifestyle he would lead, the madness that drove him to such aggression—and dangerous intellect, where he would formulate the plans needed to take them all down with him.
There was also a thin line between reliance and servitude. Little did he know that in the coming days, his mother would disappear and he would be made to make a choice; to try to survive on his own and go crawling back to the insignificant scum that was his family, or to come quietly and live in the Inferni house without complaint. When he learned the difference between relying on them and being served by them—for as long as he lived in the comfort of the house and for as long as he accepted it, he would not have to spend his own time and energy getting stuff for himself, which was to say they would all do it for him, or would be serving him—that decision would be simple.
But this was all unknown. The boy could not foresee events like that, and could not begin to imagine the kind of heartless personality he would create for himself. Staring up at Hybrid with the demand to know as much as possible about these wolves, that he may rip them down in the process of rising to the top, shining in his eyes, the boy responded to what was not a question in a cold voice, the only one he'd ever known, the only one he'd ever used.
Pretendin' w'll get the'r l'ps torn off, he stated simply and finally, as if it were some sort of promise. The'r thro'ts, too, 'f they 're l'cky. Such was the kind of violent words he'd been exposed to, the attitude of aggression, and the desire to kill. It was all inbred into him, and would come into play far more often as he grew.
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Oh, my, my, you're oh so sly.
___ Hybrid and Andre could go wolf hunting, and examine the creatures in their natural habitat, or something, haha.
Let's leave unsaid what's left unspoken.
___ What do you say to one who obviously knew who he would be, someone who would grow up to become something great and seen from afar? Hybrid could not help but smirk widely at this revelation, for he knew this child would never allow himself to fade into nothing or become something that was below him. It was reassuring to know that their Queen and Prince had passed down their viciousness to the youths, that the ideals of the clan lived on. For this, Hybrid could see that there was hope in the future, and that if everyone raised at least one child with as many noble properties as Andrezej had, they would slowly, but surely, become everything they were meant to be. Stygian and Kaena would be proud to gaze upon this creature knowing that he would carry out the wrath all wolves deserved to be subject to.
___ Hybrid did not see any reason to dissuade this boy from what he said, and knew that if he continued as he was, he would soon be travelling a road to greatness. He would require guidance along the way, and this was something Hybrid would willingly provide. Much like he was now, he would tell the child what he needed to know, to assist him to grow and become great. Of course, not all truths would be told, and many times, things would be withheld. Such was the case of the teacher and the student, the master who would only pass on the last 10% of his knowledge when he was about to pass away. Like the humans of the old, Hybrid would watch the boy, and assist him to sharpen his claws when it was necessary, telling him things when it was necessary. Even now, not all was told, but everything that was was truth.
___ "Only the truly fortunate are allowed to die. The truly wicked must be left alive to suffer," he stated with a certain nod. Should a wolf wander past the borders, they were not to be harmed. Harassed, yes, and mocked, of course, but never harmed in a way that could be traced back to a certain coyote. Wolves had to remain in constant fear of the clan, and could not be left to wander too close. If they did, for some reason, wander into their lands, and refuse to leave, that was when it was appropriate to attack, to show them the true nature of Infenri. Death was overrated, for that was a release: all trespassers could be killed, like Monet, but it was futile to do so to every one. Who would spread the words of their encounter? The dead could not speak, for they were just corpses.
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Yeah, sure, that'd be cool.[html]
The boy listened keenly, discovering the difference as his mind whirred along with it. He had at first imagined that they all deserved to die, if they were so despicable, but with the cruelty that Hybrid suggested in his enigmatic words, the boy's face twisted into more of a cynical grin than a grimace of distaste for those whom the coyote described. He could just see how tormented they would be to be chased away by a coyote, meant to tell tales of the horrors of Inferni after dragging themselves back with broken legs and broken ribs. He would take great pleasure in toying with those who trespassed when he was older; this he knew to be true.
Wh're are th'y? A demand, he decided, rather than a question; he was not asking Hybrid to tell him, but forcing him to. If he could get a good idea of what the wolves really were, having not encountered anything but the coyotes of Inferni, then he would be able to create another plan. This one would involve weapons and crude, primal methods of torture. It would involve slow and painful procedures that would leave one on the fringe of death, wishing for it to simply engulf them, but they would not be given that freedom.
He was going to be one hell of a sadist.
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Oh, my, my, you're oh so sly.
Let's leave unsaid what's left unspoken.
___ The entire situation was vastly amusing to Hybrid, and he at last allowed himself to show it. He laughed, cackling merrily as the boy asked another question. Hybrid gazed down at the boy, a wicked grin distorting his features as he shook his head. His laughter was merciless, and it was more of a death wish than an expression of contentedness, or in his case, amusement. His eyes danced as he began to pace, each time beginning to circle around the boy before reversing his direction and continuing the pattern all over again. He regarded the boy for a few moments, waiting to speak. The child, only a young puppy, seemed ready to find a wolf (any wolf) and exert his wrath upon it. It was good to know that at least one of Kaena's most recent brood had its priorities right.
___ "They're everywhere. They are the plague, the rat that infects the world with its disgusting presence. The wolves live in packs to East, some farther North. Some wander closer in neutral lands, and some are stupid enough to breech our clan's borders." He left the statement open-ended, allowing Andre to apply his knowledge to his words. Those that trespassed were maimed, hurt, harassed and taunted, but never killed. None were worthy enough for a death in battle, like a true warrior. They should be murdered while they slept and have their throats cut while they were not looking; the death of a coward.
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The fact, of course, was not that Andre was destined to be a dark child. It was possible that, had he been born into a world where he hadn't immediately been judged by all of his family that had been present, and had he not been watched so closely to the point where he hated those who kept an eye on him, and perhaps if he hadn't been set right up for insanity, he might have been a much nicer guy. Compassion had slipped away in that first month or so, and innocence was hardly a word to describe him. All in all, he was more suited for the life that Hybrid evidently led, and was almost as determined to claim one similar for his own.
C'n we find 'em? Obviously, as the hybrid had said, they were everywhere. Still, to the young child, "everywhere," was as small a concept as the beach itself, and while he saw those outside reaches, he did not know how to reach them. Eventually, perhaps, he would find himself in those lands, and he would know what it was like to be struck by wanderlust. Even as he grew, that would likely become part of who he was, just like the desire to hurt and mangle would. For now, his eyes simply sought those of the much larger coyote, though he liked to believe his own were even colder. They couldn't possibly be, but he wished it were so.
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Oh, my, my, you're oh so sly.
___ Andre is so cute  That post made me go d'aww.
Let's leave unsaid what's left unspoken.
___ Hybrid smiled at the boy in his own variation of indulgence. He would humour the child for now, and answer the questions, but one day he would take the boy outside the borders to where the wolves were and find a real coyote they could hurt. If they were fortunate, one would come wandering by at some point, though, he hardly believed that would ever happen. The chances of a coyote just happening by the Land of Wuffluvers, and being ostentatious about it was slim to none. Until that time came, they would have to find some coyote to rile to the point of a fight. Life was never that kind.
___ "You can always find them, my boy. Just follow the sweet stench of abomination and you'll be sure to find one." Although his words did not do much to answer the child's question, they were an answer in their own respect. In Hybrid's mind, the wolves were everywhere, very much like the plague that was spread by the rat. The coyote, in many ways, was as loathsome a creature as a rat, and had even fewer uses. It was nothing more than a vessel of disgust and decay.
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While Hybrid's insubstantial response was cryptic and hard to really understand, it served its purpose to the young beast. He, in his own ways, was loathsome, and it only made sense to give those types of beings the things they craved, lest they grow to be abominable in strength and fury. Andre had not been born into the world asking to be hated, or to hate; it simply occurred. It was the beginning steps on a long path that would wind him into the history of Bleeding Souls and would make him like the rest of them; at least partially mad and one hundred percent bloodthirsty. He would fit in well with those who had gone down in history, who were remembered simply for their imperfections and the impact of said flaws on the world, and the lives, around them.
This went almost without saying, however. Simply the frosty expression of the child now lent to an understanding that he would later be a force with which to be reckoned. Still, for the time being, Andre was horribly under estimated, and that would be fatal for those who believed he would simply stay a child in the coming adolescence he was quickly approaching. In fact, he may have been appalled by the suggestion that he was just a mere kid, unable of truly inflicting damage.
His wit would make sure that even verbal abuse was one of the worst types of pain.
Wha' does 't smell li'e? If hell were to freeze over, he would still find a way to get Hybrid to show him these wolves, and to tell him the best ways in which to torment and punish them for even existing. Drinking the words of the dog in was only half the fun; he wanted to see it for himself, to experience it, and to commit it.
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Oh, my, my, you're oh so sly.
___ Math analogies o__o
Let's leave unsaid what's left unspoken.
___ He would have to begin planning a time to take this child out, it seemed, to find a wolf. Although all these questions could easily be answered, it was obvious that Hybrid would prefer not to. Yes, he would entertain the child with tales of dread and disgust, but that could only stretch so far. Hybrid was not as good with words as he would like, for he had always made up for it with his teeth and claws. The international form of communication: bloodshed. A snarl or slash of the claw could do much more than a word or a threat. A glare was sufficient, for it was not simply a look, but a warning, and so much more. Where Andrezej would use words to convey his anger and loathing for wolves, Hybrid used his eyes, his teeth, his vicious smile. Those who knew him well enough understood that a smile was never an expression of happiness, of joy: it was reserved for making a mockery of another or light amusement, but never delight. Hybrid was such a creature that could not experience love or joy to begin with, so it would seem obvious that he would replace such emotions with others.
___ The child asked a question again, and Hybrid, the sinusoidal creature he was, would always drag it down to answer. His replies, though sometimes disheartening or depressing, were what he thought, what he knew. Andre's questions were the highest point, the excitement, the curiosity. "They smell like predators, but bigger than coyotes. They don't have the swift smell of a coyote, but rather, the large, burly, bothersome stench of a wolf. Once you smell it, you'll know it, and you may have already. But my boy, describing a scent is like describing how you see - you just do. It's something you will discover on your own." There was no answer to this question, and unlike the previous ones, he tried to make it clearer, make it more comprehensive. It was not easy for him, for all he wanted to do was whisk the child away to the borders of a pack and point the smell out, telling him it was this scent he should hate. In time, perhaps he would, or perhaps Andre would see on his own. In time, Andre would know what it was to attack, what it was to hurt. And he would know by the scent who was friend and foe.
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His mission was quite clear, and all that Andre needed now was the starting line. That would be more difficult to find, for even in all of his hatred and dark, malevolent being, he was still just a child. Innocence was still there, if hidden deep beneath the folds that made up his complex being, but it had not disappeared entirely. The moment he was encountered with gnashing jaws and nails cutting through flesh would be the moment that the blood thirst skyrocketed, the moment his innocence would be entirely gone. For now, that had yet to happen, although soon he imagined he would be pitted against such odds, and soon he would know. He would know the scent of a wolf, would know the danger that the burly beasts held, but also the fact that they could be clumsy, or worse. Hybrid described them as far less superior than the coyotes, and he was a hybrid to begin with; Andre would grow large.
'Kay, the child said, the words slipping from his lips like serpents, lethargic in their descent. He didn't care; it was simply a language, and while Hybrid was quite fluent in the universal way of showing emotions to the world without the use of his voicebox, Andrezej had not even been in a fight yet. He had killed a rabbit with his father, he had threatened his siblings and glared at those who were older, but he had never brought his own resources into the fray and never felt the raking of teeth against his hide.
That would come in time.
I'm go'a go fin' 'em. And with that, the child turned and headed off in the first random direction he could find, willing to go and fight all of the wolves that the world had to present to him.
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Oh, my, my, you're oh so sly.
Let's leave unsaid what's left unspoken.
___ The child had decided. Hybrid was glad in a way that it would not be him who would have to watch over him when they went exploring, for the simple decision showed that Andrezej could think for himself. To be able to think, to calculate, to determine at the worst times was a skill few posessed. For the youth of the clan, merely becoming their own individual could be difficult. Sometimes it seemed as though life within a clan was restricting and suffocating, a hierarchy of power and loathing. Perhaps that was what made it all so fun for some: the politics of reason. It seemed annoying, unecessary and redundant to Hybrid. He had no need for it and he wondered if Andre would turn out the same.
___ Hybrid did not smile at the other, but rather, regarded him with a wary eye. Were he a responsible individual, he might question the child's reasoning or at least try to stop him. But he did not care; even worse, he supported it. Andrezej had better not get himself killed. Hybrid watched silently as Andrezej left, gazing after the child's retreating form for a few moments before speaking up. "Have fun, kitty, kitty, kitty," he shouted after the other mockingly. Although he was somewhat proud of the child, this did not inhibit his ability to throw stones at him. If anything, it made it more fun to make fun of him, laugh at him, hurt him. But never to kill him.
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