Beguiled by Brotherhood

[Mokobo]

The late hours of the night had advanced into the early hours of the morn. Slowly the moon began to creep beneath one horizon as the first hints of light appeared upon the other. It would be quite some time before the sun could hope to compete with the fogs of the Moore however. The dense banks of mist were resilient to all but the strongest rays, and even then would continue to conceal secrets in their haze. Sounds took on an odd quality in the suffocating atmosphere of the area, echoing oddly off unseen objects and passing through looming shadows. The harsh call of a raven paled against the thundering flap of its wings as it took flight from its hidden perch.
From the looming fogs the figure of a young druin would stagger forth. His gait was halting as the scabbard of a sword dragged against the ground before his hind legs. Normally Oren would pause in his marches to readjust this precious object. However, currently the youth had more important things quite literally on his mind. What is happening?! In the confines of his own consciousness Oren screamed out in fright what his voice would not. For nearly an hour he had watched himself trod along, unable to control his own limbs. At first he had attributed the sensation to his lack of sleep. Often on his long trek from the desert had he looked up from the path only to find he had journeyed many a league. Yet this was entirely different. Panic had started to bubble within when his sword first fell to his side. Out of habit he made to stop in order to readjust his father's heirloom, and yet his body had simply decided to keep walking!
Why can't I stop?! Oren knew he was following the one he had met facing off the native pack. At first he had tried to simply settle the situation, wanting to know why the other bore the same mark as his father. Then everything seemed to spiral out of control. More of the pack arrived and then Oren had lost his temper. He realized that perhaps he had been hasty in his assumptions, and he could not help but wonder at how that gilded pelted elder had born the Mark as well. Yet when Shanto had taken his leave, Oren found himself compelled to follow. At first it was a gentle tug, much like the pull which had led him to these lands. His anger had boiled up once more, but then there came the biggest surprise of all. The one called Hawke had said his father's name. Not only that, he had reminded him of one of his father's lessons. The shock had left Oren so bewildered that he had not even noticed himself fleeing after Shanto. By the time his father's sword had shifted he no longer had any control of his own body which simply continued to follow its new master.
Did...did he do this to me?

OoC - Sorry if it's a bit lacking Rel D= Also, I'm up to making this open if you want

[Relairah]

The terrain had slowly faded from the grand trees and variety of foliage of the Noctre Imperii territories to the foggy depths of the Moore banking the borders and spreading ever eastward. The depth of night was waning and the darkness was giving way to pale blues on the horizon that would soon give way to sunrise, yet they were not so readily visible to those treading across the terrain. It was true that this place was not optimal. But Shanto had grown to know it well. It was not that he specifically stayed here, or anywhere in particular. It was simply the direction he had come from and went to and he suspected there was something here which if he stayed long enough... he would uncover.

As soon as he had entered the Moore, Shanto had returned to his wolven form. He didn't particularly like remaining in shadow form, but it had mostly been because he knew it would be less likely they be stopped again or disturbed if others merely saw a young Druin as opposed to his scarred and powerful form. But that wasn't the only reason. Shanto was in-tune with his instincts. And he knew Phoebus would've been sent after him. He had known it from the moment Hawke had showed on the scene in the packlands. And Shanto had hoped the Moore would help to hide them from the prying eyes of the golden one's little spy.

At long last, Shanto stopped. At that moment, he would entirely release his manipulation of the poison flowing through the young Druin's veins. It was there. And that was enough for now. If all had gone as planned, the young Druin would either suspect Hawke. Or the other shadow wolf that had so conveniently sent a shadow flame right between them. At that, Shanto even silently hoped Hawke's little pet would linger just long enough for him to confirm shifting the blame. But if not, it was no matter. They had much to discuss. Shanto would dip his head, moving a large rock beneath the mist to reveal a cavern of sorts hidden beyond it. "I'm sorry, young warrior," he said, sitting back and gesturing toward the entrance. It was more than spacious within and he waited for the other to enter. If he did, Shanto would follow. If not, Shanto would simply sit back, not wanting to raise the other's suspicions or alarm. "You must have many questions. My name is Shanto."

[Mokobo]

Was that blood-rage? Did I really loose my cool that- The sudden restoration of Oren's motor skills would catch him unaware, His inner monologue short as he found his legs once more under his control, causing him to nearly trip upon his over-sized paws in the middle of a step. The unexpected interruption to his pace cause the young druin to stumble slightly before he once more regained his equilibrium. At first, being so deep in thought, the gravity of this blessing escaped Oren. The pup instead found that he felt oddly lightheaded, and that the world seemed to be spinning. His empty stomach would moan in protest as the adrenaline from the previous excitement finally began to disperse. Unbeknownst to the youth, days of sparse meals and travelling coupled with the stress of the evening were about to take their toll.
Just as Shanto would bend to move a boulder, the one which would reveal a cleverly hidden entrance, Oren would dash off into the mist. At first it might appear that he had made a break for freedom. However, within a few brief moments the sounds of his stomach heaving would reveal the truth of the situation. The young druin's head continued to spin with questions and fatigue as a short moment of silence seemed to thicken the surrounding fog. The dense air of the Moore seemed to hold a suffocating silence which swallowed all sounds. Yet when the sickness truly took hold of Oren his first expulsion echoed off the hard ground with a sickening-

THUNK! Stars flew across Oren's field of vision as the hard, gnarled piece of wood collided with his skull. The hot desert sun poured its unbearable heat upon the bright sands he stood upon. Nearby a small creek babbled happily as it passed by, teasing the young druin with its refreshing, cool waters. TWACK! Pay attention boy! The second blow to his ear followed by his father's deep voice brought Oren back to the task at hand. Before him was the patriarch and sole parent of his tiny family. Deathblood stood at an impressive height in his druin form, supporting his bipedal stance with a long, segmented tail. The majority of the elder's frame was covered in a black pelt which was broken in countless spots by patches of deep red scales. A pair of black horns stretched from the large druin's skull as eyes of a color similar to his scales gave the youth a hard stare.
Never let your desires and emotions cloud what you see. The statement was spoken blandly, yet forcefully. This was how his father had always taught his lessons, in the midst of sword training. One time Oren had asked why it was this way. The only explanation his elder had  offered was to trip him with a sneaky flick of his tail and a chuckle, causing the pup to spit sand back to the ground. Anger begin to boil within Oren as he thought about how long it had been since his last drink and how hot the sun was and how if only his stupid father would stop with these stupid lessons he could quench his parched throat.
With a snarl the pup would launch a vicious attack upon his father, wielding his own shorter stick. I can do it! I'm just thirsty is all! Almost lazily the elder druin would dodge the attacks, simply leaning to the side opposite the intended target. After a few such evasions, Deathblood would reach out with one paw to grasp Oren by the nape of his neck. With a deft motion, which truly exhibited how much restraint the warrior had been using, the father would lift his son and promptly toss the youth into the nearby stream. At first Oren would sputter as he broke the surface of the water, but quickly he changed his mind and began to happily sate his thirst. He even took a moment to yip happily and chase after a few fish as his father calmly took a seat on the bank and watched.
After a few moments of play the druin pup would paddle back to shore, shaking water from his pelt. The hulking memory of his father would chuckle as he beckoned for Oren to take a seat. Feel a bit better? Oren would bob his head quickly with the enthusiasm only a child can display. Good, because you better listen. Oren promptly perked his ears as his tail began to wag furiously in excitement. That statement could only mean one thing, it was time for a story! Long before I started tossing you into that stream, I knew many a creature. I want to tell you about one who was entirely ruled by his anger and his hated...

The memory had resurfaced almost as unexpectedly as his body finally deciding to obey his will. As Oren took a step away from from the evidence of his weakness of stomach, he wondered to himself what had brought this memory to the foreground of his thoughts. Was it because he truly had entered a blood-rage and even from the dead his father was chiding him? Perhaps it was the unexpected surprise of finding other wolves who bore his father's Mark. It could even be how similar the burning sensation the bile had left in his throat was. Whatever the reason for its recollection, the memory (along with venting his stomach) has served to restore some of the youth's constitution.
Only a few brief moments after dashing off into the mists, Oren would reappear near the entrance to Shanto's hidden den. He walked with a wobbling pace, and in that moment any impression of a fearsome druin he may have given before would be spoiled. The pup look not only tired but practically emaciated, his freshly empty stomach shrinking inwards to give hints of his ribs. Even the youth's cheeks were gaunt beneath tired orange eyes. Oren's entire frame was trembling as he approached the creature whilst they made their introduction. With a soft thud Oren would take his own seat, desiring fresh air in the hopes of clearing his head. It would be a moment before the pup replied, his body continuing to shake as he took deep, halting breaths. When he finally did respond, his voice was meek and just above a whisper. "How did that golden wolf know my dad's name?"

[Relairah]

The aged wolf quirked a brow as the young Druin suddenly bolted away and returned looking as though he were near death. Shanto frowned and then sighed softly. Well. He couldn't have this. But before suggesting they find food, he felt it best he answer the question. Since he had been the one to offer answers in the first place. He had a feeling regardless of his physical state, this one would not rest until he satisfied his curiosities. Whatever they might be. Though of course, Shanto didn't wish to reveal more than necessary. There was no use trying to play up the initial ideas this pup had had when he'd first met Hawke. The golden warrior had quickly thrown kinks in them. But Shanto was also intrigued as soon as he learned Deathblood was this whelp's father. He had been curious what had happened to him... and now he knew. But rather than showing any reaction, he merely gazed over the Druin pup briefly before opening his mouth to speak.

"They were comrades once, you might say. Brothers in war, specifically. The Elite group the enigma in the shadows mentioned which ultimately branded us with the marks we bear. At some point or another, anyway. The group was powerful and impenetrable with the soul purpose of carrying out orders for bloodshed." At this, Shanto had a knowing smile. The slightest of tugs at the corner of his lip. His eyes showed something Shanto rarely showed anyone. A true sort of sadness while still reflecting a wry sort of look. Perhaps because dwelling on the past was something Shanto had done ever since his life had been changed forever. Internally. He hardly shared that fact with anyone. Though he suspected those with the marks he hunted knew it well enough.

"I was not a part of the group long. I had other intentions during my brief time. I wanted to destroy the group for what they did to my family. I infiltrated. But that's neither here nor there. The group split apart shortly after my time with them, and went their own ways. Well... some of them. Like your father. My condolences," he murmured. In truth, Shanto could care less. At least to some extent. But for his own purposes and ever-formed scheme... he would attempt to keep the Druin within his grasp.

"Are you strong enough to hunt? Or do you wish to remain here?" Shanto asked after a moment. He didn't intend to remain here long. But he also didn't want to continue his relentless travel if his new-found companion couldn't keep up.

[Mokobo]

-So there was that wretched soul, once full of goodness and happiness, now torn apart by loss. With his mate gone, his spawn butchered, hatred and revenge took control of his mind. He became a shadow of death with his scarred, black pelt and his oath to slay my brothers and myself-
A small frown would take hold on Oren's lips as he listened to the explanation that Shanto offered to the previous inquiry. It wasn't that the other's answer seemed a lie, in fact it seemed as close to the truth as anything Oren had heard all night, but rather the details seemed slightly skewed. This subject kept bringing back hazy memories of the stories his father used to tell, but precise details kept slipping through the young druin's grasp. The last portion of Shanto's own account seemed entirely wrong, and this discrepancy caused the youth's frown to increase as he struggled to recall more of the memory from that day by the stream.
I remember how he gained most of those marks. His dark red eyes always lit up when he would tell the stories-
Oren turned his own orange gaze to once more inspect this creature of shadow he now found in his companionship. While this wolf did indeed have a pitch-black pelt, and bore countless scars as well, he did not quite fit with the description his father had given. The druin pup's eyes would widen further as he took note of Shanto's vivid green eyes. "That's not right." The sudden interjection came with the surety of a youth who will not be convinced otherwise. Oren now gazed at Shanto with a suspicious gaze as his brows furrowed. The change in demeanor was so sudden and intense the youth did not even hear the other's offer to join in on a hunt.
He came to me after he had killed my brothers. Their blood was still on those claws of his. At first I thought he would challenge me, but he had sated his blood-lust for the time being-
Oren would raise to all four paws quickly before taking a cautious step back. This whole situation was entirely confusing, and the youth could not help but fell that some horrible mistake had been made along the way. Yet, in the short term, he felt certain that this creature was not being entirely honest with him. Whether it was by intention or ignorance he was not entirely sure yet, and for this reason Oren did not attempt to flee just yet. "My father told me his brothers had been killed by one of their own. You're talking like you didn't do it yet." As the druin would take another slow, cautious step back, another sudden recollection would surface up from the mists of memory. "Besides, you're claws aren't metal!"  
Now I know you like a happy ending, but in this case there just isn't one. Last I heard Taggerung wandered off to never be heard from again. When he came to visit me that one time he was quite insane, not only from the loss of his family but the destruction of his friends by his own paws. There is a lesson to be learned though; if you let your hatred control you it will destroy all that you ever cared for-

[Relairah]

Shanto's brows furrowed and he focused truly on the young Druin before him as the words suddenly spilled from his mouth. He must have been thinking of something specific... because Shanto could instantly tell the look that came into the other's eyes. The emotions he felt were clear in everything about him. So young. So vulnerable. "Ah..." he said softly, though remained exactly where he was, unphased by the other's sudden change. He remained as calm as ever, still seated. As soon as the other spoke his next words, Shanto understood. Yes. He had heard of the events that had unfolded years before. The madness that had torn the group apart and sent them their separate ways. But he hadn't mentioned that part of the story on purpose. It seemed he hadn't needed to. Apparently this young pup knew more than he had given him credit for. But clearly not everything. And that was good enough for him. For now.

In fact, this entire time, Shanto had never quite decided his feelings toward the once member of the brotherhood that had turned on the others. It was not the same as what he had done. He had never been one of them from the start. He had betrayed them. And that was its own sort of evil. And he hardly felt that Taggerung had killed his brothers out of believing he was somehow carrying out justice. In fact, he almost hated Taggerung the most for stealing away his vengeance. At least trying to. But not quite. It seemed fate hadn't been quite ready to hand Icewulf over to Death. And that suited Shanto just fine. As long as it was his doing in the end. Still, he had deliberately avoided the metal-clawed member of the group. Their own conflict would come in its due time. But it seemed at the moment, his schemes needed to acknowledge the other.

"You speak of Taggerung. Or at least, that's what he once called himself before he lost his sanity and turned on his own. I am most certainly not that despicable creature. Nor do I have any desire to be associated." Shanto looked away purposefully, his green gaze trailing across the stones around them. "Forgive me, young Druin. I don't know what you know of your father's past, but perhaps it's time you knew. In fact, you're very fortunate indeed that Deathblood and not one of the others was your father." Shanto dipped his head.

[Mokobo]

The young druin would relax visibly as he listened to the explanation offered in response to his inquiry. While his brows remained furrowed in concentration and his orange eyes continued to look at Shanto suspiciously, he could not help but feel that these words were at least true. For one Shanto knew the name of the creature his father had told him about. That his father had never spoken of Shanto was not entirely shocking either, as there were years of tutelage that had been torn away with Deathblood's passing. The more the youth pondered upon the subject, the more he began to feel his tension ebb away.
A little growl would bubble up in Oren's throat at the last statement that Shanto offered. The words felt dangerously close to an insult upon his father's memory. However the pup calmed himself and gave the elder canine a resolute stare. His following words were spoken with the conviction and enthusiasm of the young. "My dad had honor! He never killed the young or weak or even any who didn't offer him contest. My dad may be dead, but he taught me a few- he taught me enough." The quick correction was due to him remembering yet another of the aforementioned lessons. Always be sure of your strike, if you have committed to the act, commit fully.
After another briefly tense moment a soft sigh would escape Oren. The torrent of his youthful temper had reached the apex of its abilities, and the pup no longer found himself able to exert the energy it took to be angry and inquisitive. Another growl would escape his gangling frame, this time from his abdomen as his empty stomach churned and groaned in protest. Why was he getting so upset with this creature? Hadn't they just offered to help him to hunt some food. Such an offer seemed rather kind, even to one with as little social experience as himself. Perhaps it would be better to lay the rest of his questions to the side for the time being. Besides, the world was beginning to spin once again and the swirling mists which surrounded them only served to further confuse his equilibrium. When he next spoke, his voice seemed distant to himself and would be heavy with his weariness. "Can we go find something to eat now?"


OoC - Sorry if this is a bit lacking D= It's been a long week and I can't find my notes >.<

[Relairah]

Shanto couldn't help quirking a slight brow as the young Druin had another outburst... though this one made more sense. "Of course," he said simply, already becoming somewhat wary of the pup. In one respect, he couldn't quite understand the thoughts behind the other's words. He had in no way meant to insinuate Deathblood lacked honor. If the pup would remember, he had even mentioned knowledge of the warrior's way when they had first met within the Empire boundaries. Yet he knew next to nothing about the other and for all he knew, it was a sensitive subject. He brushed it aside.

Rising to his paws, Shanto shook out his fur. Yes. Food. That was of significant importance at the moment. "Yes," was all he said at the question. He silently hoped they wouldn't have to go too far given the amount of yelling that had just occurred.

Shanto lead him away from the cave, moving the rock once more in the way as he left. His movements were silent and stealthy after his years of experience and soon the fog lightened to reveal marshland. Trees drooped with greenery and mosses covered the ground. "Hope you aren't picky," Shanto murmured. The sounds of life in the area echoed in the mist that covered the ground. He remained still, his gaze searching until it settled with a smirk on his lips on a small group of coypu nearby. They were nested on the edge of the water not far from them. "We must catch them before they have a chance to swim."

With that, Shanto crept forward, moving in a way to block them from the water's edge and poised himself for attack. He only hoped the Druin would have enough sense not to charge straight in but to follow suit in stealth.

[Mokobo]

A sigh of relief escaped the young druin's chest as Shanto agreed to his request to hunt. Oren's stomach let loose a rumbling growl as he once more tried to recall the last time he had eaten. However long ago it had been, losing the contents of his stomach earlier had expunged his last bit of energy. Due to the combination of stress, fatigue, and confusion Oren felt incredibly weak. His trembling muscles were so tired his entire body felt light and was slow to reply to his will. The sensation was unlike his earlier lack of control, yet it reminded of it none the less. Once more a tremor would take hold of the young druin's body as he recalled that frightening experience, and his orange eyes would cast a quick glance as Shanto began to leave. Silently the youth would follow the older wolf, pondering the events of the evening and his own thoughts.
After a short time the pair of canines at last found a quarry within the mire of the Moore. Oren did not recognize these creatures, but he had seen similar ones in his homeland and travels. The nutria looked like large mice with overgrown teeth as they frolicked by the edge of the misty brook. A tired Oren would study the creatures for a moment with a slight frown on his lips. The beast's oily pelts told him they were creatures of the water, a suspicion that was confirmed as one of the creatures slipped into the stream. Once on his travels the young druin had seen a similar being that had a large, flat tail. "Hope you aren't picky." The sudden words, while softly spoken, startled Oren ever so slightly. He would look to Shanto before shaking his head slowly to indicate he was not. Having grown up in the infertile lands of the southern desert he was accustomed to taking whatever meal he could.
As Shanto moved stealthily to cut their prey off from their escape, Oren would crawl in a similar fashion through the sparse brush. Rather than follow the other, he instead crept toward the water's edge from a different direction. It was a classic pincer tactic intended to cut the coypu's escape off from not one but two sides. Such was a tactic the young druin had learned on hunts with his father in the past, and was one he knew well. Despite how exhausted the pup was, he still managed to silently stride around the rodents in a wide berth so as to avoid their notice. He felt a swell of self satisfaction and pride as he remembered the lessons of the hunt his father had taught him. It was all going so well, until the unexpected happened.
Just a few dozen paces away from the spot he planned to ambush the nutria from, a star would drop from the early morning sky. As the golden ball of light plummeted from the heavens to float before Oren, the young druin would freeze. Those orange eyes of his grew wide in shock and wonder before turning to look for Shanto. His hunting companion was no where in sight, separated from him by the mists and the water rats. Quickly he would turn his gaze back to the sprite, which was bouncing through the air in an agitated sort of way. The wisp of light would insistently bob toward him, apparently directing Oren to return from the direction he came. An annoyed frown took hold on the druin's lips before he stepped around the the ball of light, finding himself too hungry to entertain such distractions. The wisp would sag slightly in an exasperated sort of way before suddenly shooting toward the back of Oren's head. Rather than collide with the youth's flesh the sprite passed through it, winking away from sight.
The young druin would suddenly let loose a howl as an intense pain shot through his skull. Bursting from the bushes he would stagger through the startled rodents as he shook his head violently. Quite by accident he would step upon one of the coypu as he stumbled about in agony. The small creature let loose a shrill cry of pain before the damage to its spine took its life. What few rodents that remained after Oren's sudden appearance now took flight at hearing that call. The waters of the nearby stream splashed as the nutria dashed to its safety. Still Oren staggered around in a drunken sort of gait, shaking his head violently to rid himself of the sudden pain. He felt the exhaustion from earlier return in a rushing torrent, causing him to collapse onto the ground as the misty world swirled around him. Slowly the pain in his skull began to subside as he cradled his cranium beneath his paws.  
My, my, it's pretty crowded in here. Did you really need to break that poor rat's back though?

[Relairah]

As the Druin pup crept around to cut the coypu off, Shanto couldn't help a slight smirk to himself. Good. The other knew a thing or two at least. He couldn't help feeling pleased with the other. Yet the mist moved quickly and he silently hoped the other would still continue forward for them to corner and successfully nab a few of their prey. It seemed fortune wasn't as in their favor as first had seemed to present itself. Shanto crept forward, his dark form easily blending with his surroundings and managed to prevent two of the coypu from the lake and with a snap of his jaws he held their lifeless forms. Only seconds later, a piercing howl echoed and sent the creatures of the marsh into a frenzy. 'Bloody hell,' Shanto thought. He didn't speak it aloud and make matters worse, though a fierce snarl formed on his face before passing into his typical expression.

He took his kills with him and headed in the direction of the howl. He knew if he were to leave the prey behind, they'd be stolen by something else in the marsh. His ears flicked at the sound of the Druin's staggering about and Shanto found the other quickly. He ignored the other prey running for their lives as he took in the site of the pup.

"Hey," he hissed, "are you alright?" Shanto asked, dropping his kills near the other coypu that his companion had stepped on. Well... at least he'd managed to kill something. With a low growl in his throat, Shanto sensed something amiss almost immediately. Though he just as quickly recovered. Perhaps his concern was more from self-interest than it should've been... but it was genuine concern at the moment none-the-less. He had already successfully placed his poison within the other's body. So it wasn't difficult for him to recognize the presence of a different sort. Nor was it difficult to place it either. Perhaps this could work even further to his advantage though, he felt.

"What happened?" Shanto asked, dipping his head and placing a paw to the Druin's, if the other allowed.

[Mokobo]

Dear spirits, it's happening again! The young druin's heart pulsed rapidly within his chest as his head mimicked the muscle's pounding beat. Pain and fear from the earlier event caused adrenaline to course through his veins. At first Oren feared he had once against lost control of his own body. However, as the torment within his skull began to subside, the youth quickly quelled this fear as he tentatively lifted a paw from the earth. Coming to the realization that he was indeed still in one piece and in control, Oren slowly managed to calm his racing heart. Even as he felt his muscles relax and return to their state of rest his head continued to ache fiercely, and so he remained prone on the earthen floor for the time being.
Where did that voice come from? From inside your head of course. You're not exactly the brightest one are you boy? Orange eyes snapped open as his heart began to race once more. The voice he heard was indeed inside his own head, but was one he had never heard before. Had he lost his mind from the fatigue of his journey? He remembered the story his father had told him of the betrayer to his brethren, Taggerung was the name Shanto had put to him. Oren's father had told him how that wretched soul had gone insane and started to hear voices in his head that drove him further into madness. Was Oren to share this fate? My my, no need to be so dreary. I assure you I am not a figment of your imagination, and we will revisit how you know of Taggerung later. For now, you must lie to him!
At first Oren was not entirely sure what the voice in his head meant. Yet, at the sudden touch to his head, the young druin would quickly realize his present state. With weary eyes he would turn his gaze up toward Shanto, noticing the concern blatantly written upon the elder wolf's face. For a moment he considered disregarding the demands of some unknown entity which had chosen to invade his mind and read his thoughts. Yet as he opened his mouth to explain what had happened, he found himself instead obeying the silent command. The urge wasn't like before, when his body had acted of its own volition, rather he found himself believing the mysterious voice in his head. "I'm alright. I got attacked by a bee or something..It stung my tongue."
Foolish pup! He must know I am in here with him, I can not hide it. I can only hide what I say to you, nothing else. Oren repressed the growl of frustration the bubbled up within his chest. He did appreciate being chided by a voice which belonged to someone he didn't even know. Some instinct inside told him it would be best to keep this from Shanto. Whether it was truly a madness taking hold or some outside influence, Oren was sure hearing voices in his head would give a bad impression. Quickly he would rise to all fours, jerking his frame slightly to shift his father's sword to a more comfortable position. His bright orange gaze would glance over to the poor creature he had trampled. Remembering the squeal the creature had made as it was crushed by his blind stumbling caused a twinge of regret to tug his heart strings. Looking away from the gruesome reminder Oren would notice that Shanto's endeavors had been more fruitful than his own. "I guess you had better luck than I did." Excellent! Misdirection is a good start...if you were dealing with another pup! Are you daft boy? Do you not realize the danger you are in?

[Relairah]

Shanto frowned. As of yet, he had chosen not to infiltrate the other's mind. Perhaps because he had not yet reason. His own magic was capable of placing ideas in another's mind without even alerting them to the fact his presence was there. It was less a voice and more an influence. Yet he clearly sensed something going on quite different. A bee? Indeed, Shanto recognized the words were a lie. But instead of pressing, he merely nodded. "Alright... if you say so," he murmured, his brows furrowed. Already, another plan had formed in the dark wolf's mind. He would let this play out. To squelch and force out the other presence would be simple, he felt.

Shanto followed the Druin's gaze to the dead coypu and moved toward them himself. "If you're sure you're alright, perhaps we should at least put food in your stomach. Let's return to the den, if you're up to it," he suggested, picking up the kills in his jaws and gesturing back the way he'd come.

If Oren followed, Shanto would lead him easily back through the mist toward his den, dropping the prey and pushing it toward the other. Perhaps they'd find a larger kill later. But he hoped these were enough to restore some strength in his companion.

[Mokobo]

A sudden wave of guilt would wash through the young druin at Shanto's reaction to the lie. Oren had little experience with other creatures, and as such was no expert at lying. His father had taught him that it was not wise to reveal everything to everyone, but he had also told him it was a great dishonor to lie to a friend. Oren wasn't sure he could consider Shanto his friend, rather finding he still felt an odd wariness around this elder. Yet Shanto had been patient with him and answered all his questions without pause before helping him to find food. To lie to someone who was helping him seemed wrong, and when a change of subject was offered Oren would eagerly take the chance.
"That sounds great! I'm so hungry." As if to accentuate his statement a dull rumble resounded forth from his stomach. Eagerly the young druin would follow after Shanto as a different sort of roaring took place in the confines of his mind. Were you dropped on your head when you were born?! You must run! Flee! Ignoring the tirade within his skull, Oren would follow after the older canine. He kept his head low in the hopes of hiding the scowls that the annoying voice drove him to. I don't know who you are, but Shanto is helping me. Oh sure sure, just like the cuckoo steal the eggs of others so they can raise them better. What? The youth would pause momentarily at the odd phrase. He had most certainly never heard of anything called a 'cuckoo' before. While the word seemed like nonsense could his mind really come up with such an odd detail? Never you mind, it's a bird matter, something you clearly don't have the capability to understand.
By this time the two canines had returned to the den. An exhausted Oren would approach the entrance before promptly depositing himself upon the ground outside. With a heavy sigh he would look up as Shanto nudged the bounty of their hunt toward him. Offering a small, appreciative smile, Oren would mumble his thanks before attacking the food with a ravenous hunger. The first few bites of meat were greasy, and his turbulent stomach almost refused to accept them. However the youth was soon finished with the first nutria and moved on to the next with the same famished appetite. Oh you're a real keeper, sharp as a river-stone with the dining manners of a bear. Honestly I have no idea why I am even bothering. That makes two of us.
Suddenly Oren would get an odd feeling along the back of his neck, a sort of tickling sensation. He felt as if he was being watched. Looking up from his meal, the pup would scan the surrounding area with those bright orange eyes. Perhaps it was just because Shanto had been watching him? Just as the druin began to accept that possibility he saw another creature nearby in the gloom. Perched upon a boulder was a large raven preening it's greasy jet black feathers. As he tried to see the bird more clearly it would lift its head to match his gaze. Oren felt an even more uncomfortable feeling sweep through him, causing him to quickly turn his gaze away. Seeking a reprieve from the annoying voice and the unsettling bird, he would turn to Shanto once more. "What else can you tell me about my father?

[Relairah]

As they made their way back to the den, Shanto remained alert, his senses taking in every bit of movement around him. He was beginning to debate the wiseness of taking Deathblood's son with him. Assuming everything went according to plan, it would be worth it. But already... he pushed the thought aside along with his rising frustration. No. Even if it did draw attention and changes he did not desire, he must move forward. He smiled at his companion at his excitement about food and it seemed their conversation then fell silent. As they walked, there was a torrent of thoughts within Shanto's own mind, though far different than those in Oren's. Shanto was no fool. Nor was he new to this game. But he continued to wait. What was this other presence's intention? And silently he debated if he should continue to let it remain.

At the den, Shanto let his eyes wander as Oren ate. He had an odd feeling. How had he been so foolish as to let more than this Druin follow him? Or perhaps he had merely been focused on the control of his pawns to notice. Perhaps he really didn't care. He couldn't help the feeling of a smirk behind his steady expression. Let them come.

He turned his gaze back to the pup as the sound of his eating stopped and it was clear he was distracted by something. Shanto glanced in the same direction, his gaze narrowing, though he returned his gaze toward his companion, in particular because the other seemed to act normal and asked another question. Well, it seemed he had at least recovered enough to carry on, Shanto thought. Though the question stirred something in him. Perhaps because of the other disturbances that his memory turned. Regardless, he saw no harm in entertaining the other with talk of the old warrior Druin. He was curious, however, why the wolven before him did not know the answers for himself. Perhaps Deathblood had sought to keep his past from his son. Either way, it seemed the other was finally willing to listen. After all, he had offered to share with him before their hunt.

"I can only tell you what I know. As I mentioned before, I parted ways with him a long time ago, and knew very little after he parted from the group I spoke to you of. In fact, my parting from the group was before they even came to the territory where we met... though I knew enough. Deathblood lost his parents at a young age which began his warrior's path. You might say we shared the thirst for vengeance against those who would take loved ones. As long as I knew him, that was something we both had in common. Though he never took a blood oath, as I did. I had heard that he went his way before the madness of Taggerung, as he once called himself, tore the group apart. After that, I can tell you only that he went in search of his own path. I never learned whether he accomplished his vengeance or not, though it was was one of his own that had killed his family. Do you know of the Druin herritage?" Shanto asked at the end, ears flicking as he listened for disturbances near and far through the mist.

[Mokobo]

Never taste revenge son, it's poison. Oren could almost hear his father's voice as he remembered the words. There had been times when his father would grow withdrawn before his passing, usually with no apparent influence other than some offhand thing. During these times Deathblood would not play with Oren as he usually would, but choose to stare off to the North with a forlorn look of longing. Whenever the pup had asked his patron what bothered him he would always receive the same answer, and as such he soon stopped asking. Those times always seemed to pass quickly and his father would return to his normal self, usually starting Oren's next lesson right away. Now the young druin gawked at Shanto with wide orange eyes as he listened on in disbelief to the other's short tale.
Could his father really had been consumed by such hatred? It seemed to contradict everything he knew about Deathblood, and yet it had a certain ring of truth to it as well. After all, during those times his father had stared off into the distance he had never seemed quite himself. Rather, during those times his patron had seemed fierce and foreboding, almost as if a storm of anger were brewing in his red eyes. Never was that anger directed toward Oren, but he had feared it nonetheless. If his father had really become a warrior out of vengeance, why had he abandoned the quest? Had he accomplished the deed? If so, why had he always been so insistent that Oren never go down that sort of path? The young druin would open his mouth to ask a question along those very lines before pausing as a sudden thought took hold.
Shanto had made no secret thus far about his desire for vengeance, and from what Oren had heard there was good cause. As an orphan, he knew all too well the pain of loosing one's entire family. To be left in the world alone to claw out an existence and howl in frustration for answers. If his story was true, and Oren's father had lost his family just like Shanto, just like himself, then they were all cut from the same cloth. While Shanto seemed similar to his father, Oren could not seem to view the two in the same league. His father had been adamantly against the idea of seeking revenge, and Shanto seemed to relish in it. Why would two creatures with so much in common be so different on something they should share? It all seemed too much for Oren to process to he turned his attention to the inquiry Shanto put to him.
The word 'druin' seemed to have a certainly familiarity, and yet he was sure he had never heard it before. Slowly Oren would shake his head as he looked to the forgotten meal before him. He would steal a quick glance to the boulder on which the raven had perched, noting the bird was gone, before raising his voice in a meek answer. "I don't even know what a druin is, or why I should. My dad- he passed before he could teach me a lot of things." Here the youth would pause as a large tear rolled down his maw before he could squint his eyes shut to hold back the torrent. He couldn't bawl his eyes out like a pup, not now, not when there were so many questions to ask. When he spoke again his voice choked slightly within his throat. "He told me we, me and him, were different from other wolves. He said wolves were afraid of us because we were different, and that was why they chased us from their lands. After he died- and they found out I was alone- I learned what he meant." With a great effort he would open his watery eyes to look at Shanto, wanting to watch the other answer his next question so he could be sure it was true. Despite the pain of the memories he would stiffen his lip with a sniffle before speaking in a somewhat stronger voice. "Is that what I am? A druin?"
You poor soul, to have been through so much in so little a time...