Generational Trauma

Shoving him to the ground, Sephiran feels a wave of satisfaction, similar to the rush of adrenaline he’d experienced while tormenting Aurelia. But his expression does not change, the sneer creasing his lips does not crack as the boy declares respect is earned, not demanded. Absinth’s teaching the children not to bend in the wake of their Sultan? If that were true, Sephiran was going to be irate with his appointed Katil.

As Xairo finds his footing, he questions if Sephiran is the Sultan. A sinister gleam sparks in his eyes, pelt bristling as he is consumed by impulsivity. “Earned?” He says, fixating on Xairo’s lack of compliance, swooping in to grab the boy by his scruff. Lifting him off the ground, Sephiran carries his squirming body into the forest, jerking him roughly around before dropping him in a small clearing, in front of a hole in the snow. “If you will not bend before your Sultan,” He growls, stomping a paw on the ground to send vibrations through the subterrane. Shortly after, a badger emerges from its den, bristled up and bearing its teeth at the young pup. “Then you will earn your life.” He had two options; show Sephiran the respect he commanded, or turn and face the frenzied mother badger protecting its newborns.

"Speech"