A kingdom of blood and past [amenti/tor/newwolves]

Sleep. It was a part of the day that Basilisk craved; it was the only time when he felt truly at ease, when the demons stopped chattering in his mind and he could simply let it all go. But today he was jolted awake rather abruptly by a call that was all to familiar to him. Any child, after not seeing their mother for over a season, would've been overjoyed to hear the call that signified she was not only alive, but well. Instead, Basilisk felt a sense of dread begin to form inside his hollow chest. He was not the boy that she had known so many months ago; he had grown rather drastically, standing almost as tall as she. The massive yearling slowly pulled himself onto all fours from his position reclined on the dirt, where he'd found shelter under a fallen oak, groaning slightly as he shook himself awake. He had begun to lose the puppyish look he'd once possessed, and looked very much like a man now, no longer a child.

Not only had he changed physically, but mentally too. He had been all but abandoned by his family and anyone who had ever loved him; part of him blamed his parents for everything that had happened. He had trusted them, and they both had failed -- his father giving up his life, and his mother, their home. A sneer curled his upper lip as his ears perked, figuring the direction from which the call came. North, towards the mountains. Slowly he would begin his journey their, his gait showing a clear hesitance. He was a torn boy, full of malice and envy and yet his heart was cold as ice. Everything he had loved had been taken from him, and it simply was not fair.

The journey was not as long as he had anticipated. The familiar scent of family washed over him and he lowered his muzzle to the ground, purple eyes half-lidded as he considered. A plan of his own had begun to form in his mind. He had met Jupiter's daughter, and though he did not yet have her trust, he did indeed have her interest ... he pushed all thoughts that had begun to flourish in his mind away, knowing it was not the time for such things. He had wanted so badly to fill her mind with misguided knowledge, telling the young girl that her mother was a killer, had slain his father ... but he knew that would've been pushed away rather quickly on her return home. Silence became him as he approached the small gathering.

It was not hard to see his mother from a distance, and yet as he drew near he saw Zara close by her side. She had been off parading with this blind bitch while he was wondering, lost, confused? Something like hate would flash in his eyes as he eyed her, slinking near the group but remaining silent. He had nothing to say. He would listen to her, see what she was planning -- it certainly seemed like she wanted to claim this place as her own. But if he was willing to stay, that was something he had yet to decide.