He hadn’t moved far from where they had originally been roaming – he liked the place and didn’t feel like straying much farther. Plus, with what scant amount of sense he had left, he’d figured that Brutus would be nearest to where they had been the most. He missed Brutus. No one else cared to hang out with him. He didn’t have any other friends. The thought made an unusually emotional frown cross his face – not a pout or a sour scowl, but a truly upset frown. It did not belong on the madman’s face. He sighed gently as he walked along the dry riverbed, the tiny, sandy pebbles massaging his pawpads. His face scrunched slightly more, lips pursed, as he kept thinking about Brutus. Then he paused, glanced up, and yowled, ”Brutey!!!” The call echoed dully though the vastness of the empty desert sky. ”Brutus?!” another cry, destined to roam the air alone with no point to its freedom. The imp glanced left and right, his brow knit sadly.

He waited a second, refraining from ceaselessly shrieking the name as he usually would. His throat would not be sore today. Inside, there was a sinking feeling that he ought not to waste his time and energy looking for someone he couldn’t find. Maybe… if he just stayed around this desert place, Brutus would come back eventually.

He missed Brutus.

His lip quivered as he looked back down and ahead of him. It was sunny out. In the cold air, it felt nice on his back. But he didn’t feel nice. Abruptly, he sat down in the rocky bottom of the riverbed, his head hanging. He didn’t feel like exploring anymore. He missed Brutus. A deep inhale filled his lungs and then exited, shaking his bony ribcage. What was this? His eyes felt… wet.

Okay so perhaps hanging out at Mount Volkan wasn't going to make his boredom any better. It hadn't taken the twisted lord long to figure out that it would never be the same as it was when he was but a child. Even a brute as independent and selfish as he was knew the importance of family and it didn't take a rocket scientist to realize how truly alone he was. He hadn't even heard of a whisper about any of the Jaeger's for a long time. With his parents gone and no idea if any of his siblings were even alive... well he didn't hold out hope that he wasn't the last one left. His previous denial about accepting such a fact was his unraveling, but now he was beginning to accept it. It was a depressing thought for the male though. He was the last of his bloodline, as far as he cold tell, and his father had always told them of their "impressive lineage" when they were children. Oh how Nnoitra would be disappointed now. A disgusted scowl crossed his visage as he thought about it. He wasn't getting any younger yet the thought of procreating was still as awful as ever. His father had managed to get past it with his mother but Grimm wouldn't pretend to be like Nnoitra. He was a self-absorbed asshole who cared only to fulfill how own whims and desires. It didn't seem like he'd finish his father's wishes any time soon. But it wasn't like him to brood on his own loneliness and lack of accomplishing anything in his five years of life. So to fix the chaotic boredom that had taken of his life he left the confines of the mountain. The West wasn't exactly what he'd expected when he'd set out on a journey but it was at least slightly warmer so he wouldn't complain. Not that he would have complained about the cold of the north (he wasn't a whiny child anymore) but it was nice not to have to feel the icy bite of the wind nipping through his thin fur. As far as entertaining was concerned though this place wasn't as pleasant on the eyes. Everything was dried up, dull, and plain. He was almost ready to turn around and start the long trek home when the sound of a male caught his attention. Black tipped ears flicked forward curiously as the word "Brutus" was shrieked into the air. It didn't take Grimm long to realize that it wasn't just any word being called out, but a name. It couldn't hurt to see what was going on, right? It didn't take him long to reach the dried up river where he found a tattered dark colored wolf. His blue and green gaze rested on the creature and Grimm had to admit the other wolf was rather interesting looking from what he could see. Between the various scars dotted all over it looked like the other had been used as a chew toy. That wasn't what caught his attention the most though, instead it the sorrowful look that rested on the older wolf's face. Was that tears? He wasn't good at dealing with other's emotions though he was already so close. It seemed too late to back out now. He supposed he could stay long enough to figure out what was up just to sate his own curiosity. So he padded closer and stopped some feet away giving them a respectable distance from one another. "Do tell... what has the power to cause a beast like you to be so depressing?" He asked curiously plopping his rump to the ground and letting his tail curl around his haunches. Walk, "Talk" Think

It… hurt to think about. A weird kind of hurt. He wasn’t bleeding anywhere, wasn’t cut or bumped. But something in his thoughts hurt, and some part of that elusive hurt slipped down into his gut and twisted and wrenched and hurt there too. It was unfamiliar and strange, and although it was a very dislikeable sensation, he couldn’t really bring himself to feel anything besides that hurt – so he couldn’t hate it.

He just sat and felt it, let it walk all over him - let this uninvited stranger of a feeling torture him like a cat with a mouse. He didn’t notice his company until they spoke, at which point he abruptly looked up and then stood and turned to face the white wolf. ”Huh?” His pale eyes widened, peering at the other through blurry vision for a second before he instinctively dipped his head and rubbed at his eyes with a paw. He looked back up, able to see now. His marred face was a rare picture of calm innocence, forged by the faintest touch of surprise and puzzlement that graced his weathered and angled features. ”Oh,” he swallowed, a small frown forming, ”Cesar’s friend is… gone.” As he explained, he wondered briefly what was the right thing to say. Was Brutus just gone, or had he left him? His frown lingered, trembling once with uncertainty.

Then, in attempt to swallow – devour and scorn – his misery his frown twitched into half of a shaky smile. ”He’s got… love-ly eyes,” he commented, his own unblinking as he stared. This one wasn’t like Harekr. No, he didn’t have two wolves. Harekr had black around one eye, white around the other. That was definitely two, and this was just one wolf. One tall, white wolf. He had black legs, but the imp felt that those didn’t meet the requirements for “a whole ‘nother wolf.” He looked… elegant.

Grimm was a bit surprised when the other wolf stood up and turned to look at him. Most would have heard him coming a while ago as it wasn't often that he made an effort to hide his presence. The other male's shock about having company was almost enough to cause him to smirk which he managed to choke down his own amusement at the last moment. He supposed it was rude since Cesar seemed to be on the verge of tears and all. So he waited patiently as the male got a hold of himself by wiping his face with a paw. He honestly didn't expect his question to be answered but it was nice to wait around for it anyways. With that paw swipe though, the other seemed to have a good grip on his emotions. He seemed calmer and more composed. Sort of at least. He seemed okay with answering his question, which was a shocker, but it wasn't as entertaining as he'd hoped. He had no earthly idea who this friend was, presumably his name was Brutus as he'd gathered the name from the previous shouting, but Grimm most certainly was not going to be any help in finding him. He'd never seen the wolf in question before in his life, much less ever met a wolf named Brutus. He certainly had no idea what the male's eyes looked like. So when Cesar mentioned it a puzzled look crossed his gaze. "And what color constitutes as pretty for eyes?" His own interesting way of asking what color Brutus' eyes were. Still that didn't really help Cesar in any case as he hadn't seen his lost friend. He didn't see too many faces in general as it was. Walk, "Talk" Think

sorry it's short :0

The white wolf looked confused. He asked something along the lines of (at least, from what Cesar’s scattered mind could gather) what eye color Cesar liked best – what color made them pretty. He supposed he didn’t really have a favorite eye color. Unless… Oh, oh, red, of course. But favorite eyes or eye colors didn’t have anything to do with this really, he decided. ”Uhhh, nooo, they’re two colors.” He nodded towards the stranger, not realizing that the other man had thought the imp had been earlier referring to Brutus’ eyes, rather than his own. ”Did he steal one of them? From someone?” he asked lowly, staring intently at the other wolf. That was the only logical explanation he could think of. Why else would anyone have eyes that didn’t match? And with his newfound curiosity, it seemed that the beastling had already forgotten his sorrows.