the hills have eyes.
08-24-2013, 08:14 AM
He wondered vaguely how sore he might be in the morning; because right now, he wasn't feeling much pain, mostly fatigue. Still his muscles were tense, his body alert, as he managed to throw Cross off his back. Only briefly did he stumble as the large weight fell off his back, but his paws kept him upright, even if unsteadily. There was no motion to attack Cross then, as his opponent had backed off when he'd fallen and let him get back up. He reeled around to face him, panting quite heavily himself. The fall would do little damage, but at least he was no longer clinging to Basilisk ad trying to knock him down as well. Instead he watched as Cross remained there. It seemed Basilisk had inherited something from both his father and mother, a darkness in his heart that seemed to taunt him and tease him. The creamy white fur of his underbelly was tempting, and he wondered how it would feel to sink his teeth into flesh so soft, rather than nipping at his leg or scruff -- but he drew his mind away. Control was something Kaios had lacked, and thus far Basilisk had been proving to be different from his father in this way. Would it last? He was not sure; but he remained firmly planted on the ground, waiting for the other to catch his breath while he, too, panted heavily. The boy finally introduced himself, as it seemed their fight had paused -- or even ended. Cross, son of Cifer and Crusade. From Old Glaciem. All foreign to him. "Basilisk Saxe," he introduced himself as well. Not an honor he gave to many. "Son of Newt Saix and Kaios. Old Amenti." Seemed they both had something in common, besides their drive to fight, their need for blood -- their packs had been overturned or abandoned entirely. Briefly he wondered Cross's story, but withheld his questions for now, wondering if he would respond favorably. He knew his father's legacy had survived well past his death, and it was not necessarily a good one. |
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