Dillinger's ears flickered in the den his mother had chosen. Did he love her? Perhaps. love was a difficult concept for the tiny life, his mother hadn't shown him a great deal of it. His snarl would be strong as he huffed and reclined to his haunches. He had no wish to socialize with the wolves of Seracia, he was perfectly content in his bubble, he wasn't a heavy socializer. A frown would tug at the corners of his maw and he would huff, reclining to his haunches as he waited for his mother to return. He wanted to know why she had chosen this place of all places to make their home, why here? This group didn't seem like his mom, not at all.

Absently his teeth tore into the hare his mother had left for him, now wondering where his mom had gotten off too that she felt she needed to feed him before she returned, she was already teaching him how to hunt, how to fight. He would be the best warrior she had ever seen, he would make her proud. he polished off his meal with flourish and still his mother did not appear on the horizon, nor did her scent taint the air, finally, growing fed up and frustrated, the lad would pad out of the den, dipping his head to the earth, and beginning his track of her.

His journey led him to the more forest-like section of Seracia, his still small body twining around the trees and vegetation. Where in the seven hells was she, and why the hell wasn't she with him? A small bark would rip from his larynx, calling the woman, calling him mom. She was his was she not? Nothing would ever come between them.


(((Short post is short ;_;)))

It had been a few weeks since Destruction had joined Seracia with her son. The two barely got out, mostly sticking to the den she had chosen for them, preferring the company of each other to the company of their new packmates. She hadn't met anyone from her new family and she was content with that. Just because she had decided to join Seracia didn't mean that she wanted to all of a sudden become a social butterfly and start talking to the first wolf she came across.


It was another day in her new home and she'd decided to go out scouting a bit. Before leaving she'd captured a hare and left it in her den for Dillinger when he awoke, in case he happened to be hungry. She'd had a talk with her son before about not leaving the den and made it very clear that he wasn't to leave it without her accompanying him, so when she left him asleep that morning, she expected him to follow her orders. Her new home was strange. There were parts that were forest and other parts that seemed to be some kind of meadow with tall yellow grass that sprouted greenery. The animals that resided within Seracia, some of them anyway, weren't the usual prey she was used to. They were slow, lumbering animals, with giant horns, much longer than any moose or deer she had ever seen. Rumor has it that one of the big male bulls as they called them, had a nasty temper. King Gerhardt was rumored to be building up a hunting party to eliminate the beast, since it threatened the safety of the seracian wolves. Destruction hadn't killed a living thing in some time, so as soon as the king announced the hunt, she would be right at his side, ready to dig her teeth into the beast. After all, she had offspring to look after now.


Speaking of her offspring, a bark that sounded way too familiar rang out not to far from her current position. She would recognize that voice anywhere. Dillinger. What the hell was he doing out of the den? Ivory, crimson ringed orbs narrowed in irriation, powerful limbs carrying the mother to the location of her child, finding him planted before some trees. Dillinger, why are you out of the den? Did I not tell you before you couldn't leave without me? Her voice took on an icy tone, whipcord lashing dangerously behind onyx haunches as she glared at her son, a smaller version of herserlf.


Talk like this

Dillinger was not a patient creature. He grew bored and irritable far too quickly. His temperament was harsh and often brash, he adored his mom, but that was the only wolf he did not dismiss. He knew he wasn't supposed to leave the den, but she had been gone so often and he had been left to his own devices with little more than the wall to stare at. They had been in Seracia for near a month and he hadn't met anyone he enjoyed yet... not that he had any desire too, he preferred it this way, just him and his mom.

He tracked her, as she had taught him too. he couldn't be a successful predator if he couldn't track. That single phrase had been all the motivator he had needed to start practicing, Dillinger wanted to be better than any warrior ever encountered, he wanted to be the best, wanted his mom to look at him with the utmost pride gleaming in the depths of her gaze. he would settle for nothing less, so long as his mother was happy, so was he. The bark he released when he drew close was to alert her that he was coming, to inform her that he was there. She would be upset, but she would never hurt him... severely. he didn't mind her punishments, they made him stronger, better, closer to achieving his goals. He planted his hind quarters, awaiting her imminent arrival, onyx orbs set in a hard line as he waited for the familiar visage to appear, it didn't take long.

"I'm bored mom. There's nothing to do cramped up in that tiny space, I can't get any stronger if all I do is sit." There was no anger in his tones, not towards her, he knew better, but there was clear dissatisfaction. He made no effort to move, if she wished to punish him, he would take it, his mom had taught him to be strong.

Dillinger was so much like her when it came to personality. He had a bad temper, wasn't exactly the conversational type and was pretty stubborn to boot. He had none of the qualities of his father Bane, that which Destruction was more than glad of. She didn't want Dillinger to reflect anything of the bastard who had managed to get his way with her during her heat. She still didn't feel anything towards him and was more than likely to rip his sorry hide from his miserable carcass were she to cross paths with him again.


Despite his young age, the russet stained mother had already begun teaching her youth the basic skills of life; hunting and tracking. Hunting because he would have to learn how to sustain himself once he decided to leave the company of his mother and track in case he ever needed to find someone. She needed him prepared for the world when he took his place among it and he was already taking huge strides to get there. Even now as he disobeyed her orders, he was using the skills that she was instilling in him. Despite being slightly irritated at his disobedience, she was proud that he was catching on quickly and putting into play the things she was teaching him.


His dissatisfaction with the situation was evident. He could never hide how he truly felt from Destruction. If you're so bored Dillinger, then what do you want to do? We have all day and plenty of places to go to. She liked the fact that he was bored; that meant he wanted to learn. She was more than willing to teach him whatever it was that he wanted to learn. She was going to turn him into a superb wolf.


Talk like this

Dillinger didn't rightly care who his father was. He was inconsequential, unimportant. He wasn't here, his mother was and she was the only thing that mattered, at least in his mind. He rose to his pads after his request, if his mother wished him to perform a task or if she wished to punish him he would take it like a man. He was no coward, he was no weakling, his mother had not raised him to be soft and if anything was the driving force behind his mindset it was his mom. All he wanted was to see her pleased. The rest of the world could damn themselves to hell for all he cared.

Her answer to his rather blunt inquiry had him cocking his skull to the side, ears twitching as if trying to decide if what he had heard was translated to his brain correctly, he had free reign? He got to choose? This was new. His mother instructed, gave him goals, demands, orders that she expected to be met but never had he been asked what he wished to do. The answer threw him and the rather stretched bout of silence that followed showed that clearly.

His dark body slid closer to her, his head cocking this way and that, thinking, analyzing. He wanted to say something that would please her, make that crooked grin curl the edges of her mouth, for as nasty as Dillinger could be, he adored his mother. With a huff he narrowed his gaze and finally answered his mothers inquiry. "Teach me something new, something useful, something I can practice at until I make you proud." Unwavering in his certain, he met his moms gaze, awaiting her reply.

Destruction had never really considered the idea of ever settling down and starting a family with anyone. For starters, she was an assassin, a woman trained to separate wolves from their heads and send them to the grave. Second, she hated children. They were useless things that only got in the way and complicated things. And third, who the hell would want to take their chances with the russet stained woman in the first place? She was a murder who drank her opponents blood, or used to since she hadn't taken the life of another wolf since having arrived in Alacritis and had her son Dillinger. But when she had imagined herself with a child, the rare occasion that she settled down to think, she pictured raising him within the entente, turning him into another killer, just like herself. But guess things had funny ways of working out.


He seemed rather confused by her answer to his question and she could understand why. Usually the black mother was the one to call the shots, to tell him what he was going to learn and when. She never allowed him to call the shots, but she figured this time was different. He had deliberately disobeyed her, seeking her out because he needed some kind of stimulation. He had taken the initiative upon himself to seek her out and ask for training. He was advancing more beautifully than she had imagined. It took him several moments to process the fact that she was allowing him the freedom to choose. It was almost comical, watching him inch closer to her, his head tilting this way and that, analyzing the situation. He huffed, narrowing his eyes as he answered, asking her to teach him something. What would she teach him this time? He knew how to track and he knew how to hunt. But, he didn't know how to fish. That would be important if the new territory he decided to reside in didn't have many land dwelling prey but was plentiful in the marine kind.


You know how to hunt and you know how to track. Would you like to learn how to fish? A half smile curled her inky lips, ivory, crimson ringed pools intent on her child, waiting to see if he would accept the new lesson or ask for something more challenging.


Talk like this

Dillinger was a thinker, the gears in his brain were constantly grinding, crunching down words and numbers until everything made sense inside of his own head, and then he tweaked it, twisting it to suit his own benefit, his own personal gain. His mother, it seemed, was fond of this, which in turn pleased him. She was the only one he ever cared to empress, the wrest of the world could go and suck itself for all Dillinger cared. If his mother was happy, he was happy. It was as simple as that. He disobeyed her, only to seek more knowledge, more information and as he perched before her, he waited, gauging silently what her reaction might be. He watched her, studying her even now, the way her posture remained rigid, even though he obviously posed no threat to her, the way her eyes gleamed with emotions the way her claws flexed and scraped against the dirt, he would grow and she would be proud of him, he would obey her without flaw as was his roll in life. Plume flickering between his haunches, he waited on baited breath for his mother to deliver him an answer, he had been clever with his wording and if the slight smile that spread across his mothers maw was any indication, he had done just fine. Her response had him tilting his head to the side. Fish? He didn't like fish, but they were a necessity and as his mother constantly reminded him, a healthy source of protein. He had never seen a live one, only the carcasses his mother had brought back. Eyes narrowing into fierce slits, he stood, plume dragging behind him. ?When can we start?? Speech,