It's Like Waking Up From a Nightmare

Redrum’s muscles tensed as he observed the man, his eyes narrowing with that of curiosity and caution. The older wolf's low growl and bared teeth didn’t intimidate him; instead, they drew him in further, like a moth to flame. He heard the subtle beginnings of hissing in his ears, at the back of his mind. Despite that; His ears flicked forward, fully attuned to the brute before him, golden orbs tracking the subtle shifts in posture and expression, trying to read every nuance, every flicker of emotion. Like he would with a doe before he set into his stalk and inevitable hunt.

“Redrum’s– name..? Murder?” He repeated, the words halting, almost uncertain. The word bounced back and forth in his mind, testing its weight, rolling it around as if trying to grasp its full meaning. A grin slowly split his maw, sharp and predatory and much too wide and toothy. He tilted his head slightly, his intense gaze locking onto the blood-red man, a reflection of the cunning and ferocity inherited from his mother. "Mother... is– clever. Redrum– likes his name– twofold now. He will– thank her later." A swell of pride filled his chest, the name taking on a new, thrilling significance, especially when it came to prey.

The mention of a brother he didn’t recognize, a wolf named Diablo, sparked a fierce blaze in Redrum's golden eyes. He pushed forward, his chin tilting up to meet Ignis’s gaze head-on, challenging and questioning, caring little for personal space. “Diablo? Brother? Redrum does— not understand.” The muscles in his shoulders twitched, his jaw snapping together with an uncontrollable click of his ivory fangs. The uncertainty of the interaction gnawed at him, bringing his flaws to the surface. A distant conversation played in his mind, faint and dull with time. How many kids has Ig got anyway? Ig. Ignis? The boy was not daft, but all the same, he knew nothing beyond Medusa and Insomnia. "Ignis speaks– in riddles. Speak– plainly, red-man." His low baritone rumbled out, still tinged with the remnants of youth, yet carrying the weight of his growing self-assurance.

He sniffed the air deeply, drawing in more of Ignis’s scent, his mind working to piece together the man’s origins. Redrum’s nose twitched as he processed the unfamiliar yet oddly exhilarating aroma, instinctively searching for clues like he would for prints in the dirt or the markings of antlers on trees. He got the inkling he needed to ask a new question. One that had appeared in his mind as the brutes name was spoken, as he seemed to know things Redrum did not. Fine. Out with it then. "What should– the name Ignis– mean to– Redrum?" His voice, broken and uneven, came out low and rough. The older wolf seemed to have the answer, and it was starting to bristle the young vermillion brute’s fur. Redrum was not one for patience or subtlety; he needed answers, and he needed them now. Sure, he could seek his mother out now and ask her himself, but this man… he wanted to hear him speak.

"Murder"