Daemonium

Tyranis charged up the flaming mountain, sulfur and sheer unbearable heat assaulting his senses as he drew closer to the gaping peak. The scent he had caught on the wind was unmistakable, and with it came the metallic tinge of blood, his father was here and he had killed another wolf, a young one judging from the shrill scream that had preluded his charge up the sheer rock face. Mt. Vulcan, once a place he had looked at with such pride as his rightful home was now dark and foreboding; tresses of smoke and ash fell from a black sky and faint glittering sparks of embers rode the wind to shower down over him.

Above his head, glossy black feathers peaked through breaks in the miasma of ash to show his winged companion harbingering the way to the horrific sight awaiting them at the mountain top. As he drew closer he could hear the smacking of someone’s lips as they gorged themselves, but Tyranis knew far better than to expect a dead goat at his fathers paws when he came closer. Elias was a silhouette against the hellish glow of the vulcan’s maw his huddled form moving in jittering sporadic motions that reminded Ty of an insect overcome with parasites to the point that it had been left an empty husk.

“Father.” He greeted quietly, his head lowered to hide his throat as his golden eyes pieced together what had happened. He had killed one of his own children, but it was one he hadn’t known or met, what remained of the body reminded him vaguely of Dominus, but the lack of testicles neither shorn away or visible determined that the young pup, nearly a year old, had been a female. He recognized the ministrations as that of a Praetor funeral, as had been described to him by his father, but the scream and sheer quantity of blood had told him the girl had been nowhere close to death when he began this rite.

He stepped sideways to broadside his father, blood and offal caked on his muzzle as his irregular eyes stared into something the male was no longer sure existed. At once he understood that this was something he had intended to do for his own son, but his pride refused to let him be disgusted in himself. Rain had been of little consequence, he would never deserve to live on through his father and grandfather, they would provide no strength to anyone who ate of his body, or worse they would only become weaker for it. The girl however had been innocent as far as he had known, born of Elias’s own seed from his chosen mate, she didn’t deserve to die so horribly, even if it meant she would live on through him. He understood with great certainty in that moment that soon both she and his father would live through him.