Redefine it quickly

É R E B O S .

many times over, Érebos endured through many fights of ego. a nonstop game of pride-, some burnt others & some ruined all in one go. true colors never stopped to surprise Érebos. his own truthful hue was far from the ones he presented aloud to the many eyes that watched him. a clan member trying his hardest to keep everything running smooth and easy from the dark end of a backroom. camera, action. he edit proofed the fucking script. but here.. when no one else had been around, Érebos did not follow the script so.. accurately. loose was the pride he owned at this time. loose, loose, loose. he fixated on the task at hand instead, never getting lost.

so when red urged him to get on with it, the notion rolled off him like water. paying no mind to the effect his lectures could've had on the Prince. same with enyo. he didn't hold back on her and he certainly wouldn't with medusa eldest son. "So then who controls you? the wolves and circumstances outside of yourself then, yes?" he confronted them, shining light on their narrative, their inner world some more. to have them open up and show face of their truer hues. too early perhaps, but Érebos did not care for the formalities. Érebos was soon to become this lad's step father whether they approved of it or not as well as their grim reaper. hell, their alpha in due time. and he wanted to know who Redrum really was outside of the rumors, battles and standoffish nature they had. surely there was more to the youth. more than they let on, indeed. same could be said for Érebos. and thus, the relative moment began to manifest between them, a potential for both imprint & bondage. "I had to become what others forced me to be, too." he admitted, paws finding a thin needle and some hemp string to prepare for sowing. "But I don't do that anymore." he clarified, offering an alternative to the way Redrum might've went about living his life. living their life on autopilot as most mortems seemed to do.

"Stitching your neck wound first. Breath in," he pressed the fixed needle into the male's wet red skin, exhaling as he walked red through it the care and attentiveness was evident in his every move. "Breath out." and he repeated this for some time until the wound was closed and neatly sewn. tying a knot, Érebos would glance at Redrum to gauge how they had been holding up. "You will need some antibiotics internally. too many wounds to plaster my paste on. The oil I will give you will burn your throat as liquor might. Take it nonetheless." he ordered them, giving them the best advice he could.

"She's a spitfire, isn't she?" he was referring to the dragon, the warlord. a small smile pulling at the creases of his lips to reveal glinting white teeth at the change in direction their conversation took. amused as he spoke about her, eyes endearing as he stared at the sewed wound for a second before moving on. he kept in mind the chat he had with enyo before receiving red. "She likes you, you know." he spoke with a baritone voice, his paws busy sorting for the oil in his herb pouch. "She left you alive after all." the dunamis male was blunt and honest to a selective few. he wondered how red would take such news.



talk ─ think