The world's a gun
Good. He'd gotten a reaction out of the silver male, and one that satisfied the devil. It seemed that the traitor didn't like being called a traitor, so to speak. Enigma bared his teeth in a menacing snarl, tail lashing behind him. He really had nothing to lose at this point but his life. The other things that had mattered at one point? Taken away during the siege and then ripped away when his father simply sought a spar. And here stood a former ally. Now an enemy. "Why the sudden concern? You didn't seem at all interested once the pack fell and my father killed." His voice was deathly cold, eyes just as cold as his gaze bored into the other.
He would abruptly stop in his tracks when xephyris told him he didn't want him as an enemy, and that alone brought a rumbling laugh bubbling from the pits of his throat until it grew louder. Shaking his head, piercing amber eyes locked onto silver. "Actually, I believe you made that choice the second you joined the pack of that idiot! You knew we were enemies with that crippled Bitch, and yet here you are coated in the scent of the bitches son." He sneered then, hackles bristling. "My father liked you, trusted you enough to let you help him build something that could have prospered. But I always knew you were a traitor! He would laugh again, yellowed fangs gleaming as his eyes lit with humor. "As a matter of fact, didn't you leave queen idiots pack to join us? Yet you return to them. Birds of a feather, eh?"
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