now we got problems And I don't think we can solve 'em [DM]

Trailing along at a far slower pace, heart thumping in his chest with a vengeance, the pallid prince swept through the willows with very little regard for the surroundings. He was oddly distant, mismatched eyes a little vacant, expression unreadable. Ears flat, head low between muscular shoulders. Already a crowd had begun to gather, the fight had begun and was in full swing by the time he broke through the ephemeral embrace of the soft, drooping willow branches. Though it was a flurry of movement and flying fur, he caught a few glimpses of his mother's killer. Clad in violet and slender as a knife between the ribs. A low, terrible growl burbled in the back of his throat, rose tinted lips peeling away from glinting fangs. Slate dappled hackles bristled, crown rising to grant better vantage of the battle as it unfolded. Every inch of him thrumming with violence and loathing.

Unable to tear his gaze from the death match, the once-prince found himself frozen in place. Rigor set in, brought about by an overwhelming amount of emotion- rage seated front and centre among them. Here he was, finally, seeing the bitch who had slaughtered his beloved mother. And he wanted nothing more than to watch her grow cold on the damp ground of the willows. Somewhere in the periphery of his attention, he heard his brothers. Ghoul- he hadn't seen Ghoul since... Well. He'd stumbled upon him lying broken at the feet of that strange statue. Gone looking for their sister for help, and come back empty handed. By the time he'd returned, Ghoul was gone. Where had he been this whole time? Sucking up to the bitch who'd stolen their home. Slowly, he peeled his gaze from the carnage to lay eyes on his dappled littermate. And there was Ichor, on the offensive. The two idiots were fighting? Now?

Carefully he picked his way over to where the pair were now locked in combat, and there he locked eyes with the usurper. Medusa. His brow furrowed as his lips curved into a scowl, only for a moment. He'd already defeated her, won his freedom. But Ghoul.. Well. He wasn't sure what to make of his traitorous brother. Evidently Ichor had decided on violence and anger, and Viscera... wasn't about to lift a finger, as it turned out. He sighed heavily, long since used to standing by to keep an eye on the barely contained chaos of his twin. He remained on his paws, one ear turned to his brothers and the rest of his attention on the potential death of the bitch who'd killed his mother. It was all just a waiting game now. And he would wait to see if he needed to take up the sword if Sparrow fell.