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In the early morning chill, a child stirred. He was not so much a child in mind as he was in body, but really, even that hardly spoke to his innocence. That which he lacked had not been with him past the first month and a half of his life, but really, had receded to a distant corner of his being, never to emerge again. The smell of the sea lapping the shore, along with those of the sand and the blood staining it, did not make his stomach turn; instead, it excited him. Like a drug, it ignited in his tainted soul and spread through his body like quicksilver running through his veins. He stood, licking his muzzle, where blood had long since clung and dried, to face the slaughtered little rabbit at his feet. Even they were licked in its blood.
Its intestines were stretched out some ways away, organs strewn across the sands in a gory display of Andrezej's secret desires for nothing more than maiming and killing. The bloodlust that had burned in the child was like release; he could find nothing better in life than that feeling, that high. The fur had been stripped from the hare, and bones lay alongside those precious elements that had kept it alive. It had screamed, oh had it screamed, but only in the way that such creatures could; silence along with the struggle.
And there was Andrezej, the coyote cub who had fallen asleep when the draconian lust had died, and woken to find it in the morning, and that sight brought his wicked grin out.
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indent Very few of the Lykoi children had remained innocent for long. Ideas polluted their heads, offering them thoughts of war, genocide, destruction. Gabriel had known hatred then and knew it now. He believed that for the few wolves that did not strike him as brutish idiots, there were a hundred more who would gladly prove him wrong. Every action had an equal and opposite reaction. Gabriel was defensive, aggressive, and unwilling to put his trust in any wolf (except, perhaps, his father and Fatin). The rest could go to hell.
indent The scent of blood had drawn him. It hung heavy, iron-wine in the cold air. The Aquila, who in his current form looked more dog then ever, moved across the sand on his four feet easily. What he came across was Andre, the rogue son who had taken up his own sense of purpose. Judging from the corpse and its provocative display, that much idealism was clear. “Hey,” he offered, coming to a halt a comfortable distance away.
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Andrezej had never been the kid to follow others around looking for attention that was likely not to be given to him. He had been born into a world where he was unwanted, the product of two miserable souls coming together in what had not been meant to be, surrounded by siblings that, by nature, despised him and his litter mates. That hatred had spread quickly, and Andre had absorbed it like a sponge, propelling it out to the others that he did not have a desire to be around; soon he shut out his littermates, his family, and everybody. Nobody would ever be close to the boy, and the only other creature he respected at all was Hybrid. His mother was the worst; she had walked out on them, and while he did not feel bitter because he missed her, he felt bitter that she left him with the idiots that were the Lykois.
Now he watched the one who had taken over in her stead, Gabriel, walking towards him. The one time he'd encountered his brother before, he had demanded to know how to change into the two legged form. Unfortunately, young Andre was not quite as tame as he had been that time, and far more hostile. Upon the german shephed patterned hybrid's speaking, the young boy bristled, hackles shooting up as his lips curled back over his bloodstained teeth.
Fuck off, he said slowly, as if to make the meaning as clear as possible.
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indent Hatred and isolation held their family together. They could not survive on their own—too mad, too sick for their own good, they inevitably came to each other in times of need. Gabriel knew this because he had scars to prove it. He knew enough to know better. His half-brother, stained with blood, turned on him. What words he lashed out with fell on a body too used to beatings to feel. Still, something dangerous lived in Gabriel. Perhaps more dangerous then the thing he saw in Laruku because he could always wipe himself clean. He had nothing to loose.
indent Immediately, his eyes caught fire and his face darkened. Lips pulled back from ivory fangs in a wicked grin, and he laughed. It was harsh, mocking, the voice of a coyote. Advancing, the larger hybrid began to circle the child. “Or what? You’ll go and kill something smaller then you for kicks?” Another barking laugh, and Gabriel swiped the pile of bones and frozen organs away. They tumbled in the sand, leaving patterns in the snow. He eyed his younger brother with distaste, clearly not impressed by his antics.
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The change in the leader's expression did not faze him in the least; in fact, the boy grinned sadistically back, catching the words tossed his way, so casual it may have been worth the wariness. He didn't care; he did not belief the hybrid capable of destroying him. After all, he was somewhat of a psycho himself, and even though all of the Lykois were admittedly insane, he felt himself further able to eliminate them all because of it. Only the insane believed they were perfectly sane, and he certainly did; looking up them, with their ravaging eyes and their bated breath, he couldn't see how he and his scheming were not.
But then, he was nothing more than a child with a lot of darkness swirling in him.
No, he responded deeply, lips curling back over his teeth, though he was motionless as Gabriel circled him, frozen as the organs went tumbling away. I'll kill you instead.
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indent He had never considered himself mad. Troubled, yes, but never mad. Decorating bones, reading signs in intestines, hearing voices that were not there, seeing ancient and long dead relics—no, these were not signs of the mad. Martyrs are rarely understood, rarely considered anything but lunatics.
indent Cocking his head back, he laughed. “Please,” he said, lowering his head, scarred face twisted with amusement. It was hysterical, and it was treason to say such things, but his brother was disturbed. Gabriel would not turn him away until the time was right. He could read the signs, as clearly as he saw them in the remains of the rabbit. “You couldn’t if you tried. Why would you want to, anyway?” Method, even now, method in the madness.
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That was a good question — a pointless one, but a good one — and he found himself pausing a moment, considering it with his developing madman's mind. Unlike his older half-brother, Andrezej did not deny that he was likely very much insane, but it was nothing that perturbed him in any way. In fact, he viewed it to be an advantage; only the mad could scheme like he did. Only the mad could think like he did; therefore, the sane found themselves completely off guard when faced by the to-be sadist, to-be masochist, to-be nihilist.
For my pleasure, he responded simply, darkly. After all, if Andre had ideals to take the throne, he'd still have to wait until he was old enough, and nobody would support him. That was a thought that had not crossed his mind, but would, eventually, be recognized for its power. He had only wanted to be higher than the others for his own reasons; never had he thought of being powerhungry. They had no need for power.
Could too.
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indent The boy’s goals were as inane as his desire to kill him. Gabriel studied his face, the build of his face, the short gap between skull and shoulders that was the weak point. He could strike him down without thinking twice about it. All Lykoi’s were natural born killers. Even childish, ignorant children like Andrezej. “We could debate this all day,” he said, shrugging. “But that doesn’t change what will and will not happen.”
indent It worried him, though very slightly, that perhaps this younger generation were all mad. He was aware Hybrid was a sadist, Samael perturbed in his own way, and now here was Andre, taking after his father. Gabriel’s eyes darkened slightly at the thought, though he showed no other outward sign of his realization.
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There was, in fact, little purpose to the whole encounter altogether. He couldn't deny that the older hybrid had a point, but nonetheless, Andre wanted nothing to do with reality. He had a perfect world constructed for himself out of hatred and blood; there was nothing more he needed, or desired. His eyes, wickedly manic even in childhood, fixed on this older being with the intensity to blow his mind right out of his skull.
Of course, it wouldn't happen, but the mad little boy could wonder if, someday, that ability would be his to control.
In his mind, he saw himself leaping at Gabriel, jaws flashing as the element of surprise passed both over his triumphant smirk and the elder's dying gasp, but he wasn't stupid enough to try it. He wasn't yet big enough to take on this one, and while he knew that, it didn't stop him from having the desire to slaughter him. Ears folded back as he snarled at his older brother, grasping on to what little intimidation he could muster; he would not allow those images in his head to become reality. Andrezej was not being kind, but rather, masochistic; he would much rather alleviate his pain of holding back to heighten that of being beaten.
He would never submit. You don't know that. One day it will make all the difference.
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indent The boy’s gaze was countered, met with his own. Gabriel had been doing this for years—and as the Aquila, with so much wolf blood in his system, he would not tear away. Dominance was a key factor in being a leader, and realizing that his brother would never fully submit, the seed of distrust was planted. One day, he would remove him from his home. That much he saw just by looking into his brother’s snarling face. Pulling his own lips back, Gabriel growled deep in his throat, a wolfish sound. “Nothing will change.”
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Wanna bet? He wasn't in the least bit concerned with the growling of his older brother; to him, he was no leader. Andre had no leaders. He was a wayward maniac in the midst of a clan, but he held no respect for any of them, sans perhaps Hybrid. Still, he did not trust anybody, and likely never would; the world would become his plaything, and he would string them all from the stars of a hell they had never known. His lips tugged back into a wicked little smile, and the boy's bright yellow gaze shifted from the hybrid, though only momentarily, to drift across the snow-dusted sand beneath them.
You can't stop me, he continued, voice eerily quiet now, unless you bring those filthy dogs out there down on me. That was really the truth; by the time Andrezej grew up, he would have no soul and no conscience with which to consider outright attacking anybody that came his way. Removal from the clan would not perturb him so much as it would fuel his desire to crush them, and while he was yet young, he was breeding within him the sickest little creature he could imagine. One day, it would inhabit his body and shove any and all feeling from him.
In which case you would simply seal your fate. He didn't doubt he could kill the wolves, too. His high thoughts of himself may only have been due to his growing madness and desire to see them all destroyed, but it was very possible that such confidence would become his greatest weapon.
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indent His half-brother was arrogant, fearless. He was a new Baneesh, who had met his demise because of that lack of fear. He was too brash and too readable. Gabriel kept growling, aware of what had to happen, what would happen in time. Not today. Andre continued his mad ranting, promoting his invincibility, daring him to make a move. It wouldn’t take an army. It would take one person; Gabriel would crush him without a second thought if those words became action.
indent “You’re weak,” Gabriel said coldly. “And you’ll always be weak. Now why don’t you go back to whatever rat-hole you crawled out of,” he half suggested, half demanded. Gabriel did not move. He would not be the first to leave.
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How 'bout you go fuck those rats from my rat-hole? Stubborn and flowing with childish arrogance that might one day disappear, the boy sneered, youthful features fully distorted by the malevolent expression. His paws tensed on the sands, fully expecting the larger, older hybrid to come down on him for such a comment. Of course, he willed himself not to feel the pain; he was just as capable of tearing his half-brother's throat out as the next guy over, but he was smaller and somewhat less experienced in the field of familial warfare.
He held the disadvantage, but did not allow himself to be swayed by such odds.
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indent He wanted to be a bully. He was a bully, really, but Gabriel was ignorant to his fight with Rachias, and that he would soon after this meeting fight with his brother. This was not the first time he had dealt with someone like this; the man who had scarred his face had been the same. Ceol had provoked him, and slashed his muzzle open. Andre was not half his size, not half his experience, but the Aquila took no chances. He remained where he was, and smiled thinly. He said nothing. This was just a game.
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[html] they all wear the same face and
The boy paused a moment, carefully gauging the reaction, and mimicking his half-brother's little smile; his was, perhaps, more devious, but also more childish. Got'cha, he laughed cruelly, feeling as though he had, indeed, struck the leader wordless on the matter. The truth was that Gabriel had simply given up retorting, which was something Andre could say he aimed for in the beginning, and spinning such false admissions would likely bring less trouble than one would believe. He didn't need to say anything more to the coyote hybrid; if he turned his back, he would likely be beaten to a pulp.
Not that the pain would change him in any way; he would simply laugh as his tears involuntarily fell, a reaction he would not be able to stop. He might scream for mercy, but it would always be an act, for Andrezej Lykoi, though only five months old, did not fear torture or death.
Well, get to it, then.
it says, "hangman, i'm on to you"
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Expect a PM about stuff shortly! 
indent He would control himself. He had to show that no amount of words would drive him. Gabriel knew he had his own vices and his own buttons, but Andrezej had not pushed him yet. So he remained there, still smiling, eyes sharp and clear. He was waiting. If the time came for it, he would strike his half-brother down. He would rip his throat out and leave him dying on the sand. His word was law here and he was above the law if there came a need for it. Inferni was no democracy.
indent But for now, the Aquila waited and said nothing.
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[html] they all wear the same face and
At that point, he didn't care too much about being the last one standing. Solitude was calling him, and of course, being anywhere near his despicable brother or anybody at all was only ruining his already screwed up life even more. He merely watched the elder hybrid with calculating, emotionless yellow eyes, unraveling the fact that he would be the one to leave first.
Whatever, you can sit here and fuckin' die for all I care. He turned then, not caring what kind of dirty backstabbing tricks the older Inferni member would pull, and began to jog away over the sands. Simply put, there were many better things he could do than hang around here, where he was both unwanted and alienated, but it wasn't as if he wanted or needed them, either.
it says, "hangman, i'm on to you"
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