Going Under

His ears twitched as she claimed she wasn’t attempting to kill his father, feeling as though she didn’t fully comprehend his question but that was expected. Everything she did and said pointed to her being far from civil or intelligent. Though as she sputtered about not wanting to hear his story, it would cause him to lift his head and gaze out at her. “Oh, are we allowed to ask for choices now? I’m Rafael, a student in the realm of psychology and philosophy and you have been a wonderful subject of study. Thank you for being absolutely fascinating,” he smiled, one that was actually genuine and rare along his lips. It didn’t hold anything devious or threatening. None of what he said was a lie either. She was truly the best beast he could ever be granted to study.

Slowly, he’d try to get up, needing to stretch his spindly legs before they might gain a blood clot from laying there for so long. It was a tight fit, having grown a bit more since he was placed here, making him have to snap a vine or two to reach his full height. “Do regale me and explain everything else that goes on in that curious, beautiful mind of yours I love so dearly? I do wish to meet it all, preferably face to face,” he mused, deciding not to toy with her any longer to get interesting reactions and just getting right to the point. He pressed on the vines, snapping some more, though some did not budge much from his frail form having no weight behind it.

manip + code: clae

They said the eyes were the windows to the soul and she wondered what he could see within hers that fascinated him so much. Did the fractured mosaic of her damaged mind reflect within her eyes as red as warning signs? Or was it the hate that had eaten its way through her heart laid bare behind her bloody glare? Roisin did not like it. The sly way in which he mocked her with his words and smiled at her. She did not recognise the authenticity of his response nor would she accept it if she had. “I don't give a shit what your name is, Vanadium, or what books you’ve read that makes you think you know anything at all,” she snarled, stalking towards him like a beast on the hunt.

“Keep your twisted fascinations to yourself or that tongue of yours will make a nice little gift for your mother,” she warned him, realising after she'd made the threat just how frayed her moral fibre was becoming. She was prepared to do it. The strength of her desire to maim the child made her wonder if she was losing some of herself in these fae cursed woods.

“Now lay back down,” the command came as she approached, red eyes seeing into him like embers.

art + code: clae

His brow raised as she sent him threats that were aimed to harm a woman not even part of any of this and it brought him to tilt his head. “What is my mother’s name? What does she look like? You don’t have any idea, do you?” he taunted a little, feeling like the only reason he was even known as his father’s son was because he looked like the ice prince. Without that, would this whole situation be different? He believed so. Would she be kinder? Maybe but alas, there was nothing she could have gone off of if he looked like his mother. None of the brothers looked like her and that was in pity, they could all be targets to this woman and her supposed family he had not yet seen. “Why don’t you share my torture with your family?” he inquired next as he realized this. If this wasn’t only her hatred but her whole family, he would think they would be here to shove nails into his paws too as he was slowly put to death.

His ears twitched as she gave him an order, not a piece of him stopping in his actions as he pushed more against the vines, snapping more and more until they were all tossed to the ground. However, with this freedom he just acquired, he did not run, nor did he heed her warnings. Casually he would move out of the prison, looking around and stretching his bones without even passing a glance in her direction, kind of bored of her psychosis at this point.

Without a word, he would attempt to press his brow into her cheek then brush his side against hers as he passed and flop down next to the kill she had brought, choosing to eat without authorization. He expected her hostility, for her to try to break one of his bones but it didn’t stop him from dining on some food while he was out of his cage.

manip + code: clae

The snowy arches of her brows began to ache from the constant tension pulling her expression into a frown. Elias Junior was exhausting to deal with and his attitude was grating on her nerves. He conducted with all the arrogance that she expected from a Vanadium, speaking with a sense of superiority that made her want to push his smug little nose into the dirt. The child assumed that she knew nothing about his family and she was more than happy to correct him. “Your mother's name is Orlaith and I assume her family name is Kinnaird unless she took on his filthy name,” she told him, thinking back to her unpleasant encounter with another Elias child. She had never learned the pup’s name, but he had offered her valuable information before he slipped away. “I know where she lives so finding out what she looks like would be simple enough,” Roisin explained in a matter-of-fact manner.

He then questioned why her family was not involved with her revenge. “Maybe I will,” she suggested vaguely, but had no intentions of including them. If he believed that more might be coming to participate then all the better. It didn't stop him from attempting to break free of the vines she had secured him with and boldy steal the carcass that she had withheld from him. The former soldier moved quickly, jaws snapping in an attempt to seize his scruff and body aiming to tackle him. “Should I deliver your corpse to your parents instead?” she snarled into his ear, moving her paws to dig his flesh roughly if she could.

art + code: clae

His fur was quick to bristle at the sound of a name he knew only in passing, Orlaith. It was a name he never got to use, for he called her mother but he heard it from others around him time and time again. Against his better judgment, he showed way too much acknowledgement that she was right about everything in that regard. The question was, how did she know. If she was a spawn from a war well before he was born and hadn’t been in his life at all, then he felt like such information shouldn’t have ever graced her ears. Unless, he was right about her being a psycho stalker. Every bit of him felt on edge now, his adamant nature fraying at the seams as he stared at her with a seething hatred he had never felt so vividly before. Threats toward his family mindlessly had been one thing but she knew, she knew more information than he ever thought she might and it made his willingness to be a toy any longer burn up in flames.

Even if he died here, his family would still be in danger, not just his father either. He couldn’t be that sacrificial lamb he had been being for the past few months, playing to her whims any longer. There was no upper hand, not even a trump card. It made the veins under his skin run cold and if it were possible, his appearance became all the more pale at the mere idea this plan had been all for not.

He was outplayed. He was a failure, and it was going to cost him and possibly everyone he loved their lives.

His logical senses were replaced by instinct alone, one that was far different than the boy he normally was. Violence flashed as his lips peeled back, his hackles raised and his senses debilitating to nothing but primal destruction. He had to kill her to keep them safe. He made no effort to free himself of the fangs that tore at his scruff, pulling to allow them to shred him.

The lamb had to become the bear. Any focus on the food had left his mind, only blood from it dripped from his powder snow muzzle before he quickly tried to seal her fate, aiming to latch his jaws onto her trachea, with an insatiable desire to crush it so she could never talk or breathe ever again.

manip + code: clae