My songs know what you did in the dark

Syrinx came as he was called, as were his natural tendencies, but he was not surprised or taken aback or even impressed. The male that sat at the borders so reserved held no appearance that should have shocked him--nor did he have truly anything worth while. The boy was another rogue on another day. Syrinx saw nothing special and had half a mind to wave his maw over him and push him out--to come back another day. Syrinx needed those that swore fealty to him--not those that came and acted as they needed to for a shelter and somewhere to call a home. Amenti was not necessarily the archaic definition of a home. Amenti was an enlistment. When one joined they were admitting themselves to a military that did not need changing. Amenti was a forever kind of thing that wasn't just going to fade away. It would offer those that had accomplished nothing the change to become something and to strengthen themselves for whatever came after. If anything came after. One could get addicted to that kind of power, and to turn from it--that was even harder. A taste was all they needed, and then, they would understand his antics.

He stopped before the other man--Syrinx the behemoth out of them stared down at him without a single expression on his face. A low growl resonated deep in his throat and he prepared his killer canines--wrinkling his nose in aggression and drawing his probiscis into a firm and deadly snarl. If the other dared to overstep his boundaries Syrinx would annhilate him as the threat he was. "What," His single word was not asked in a questioning tone, no no, it was a demand. This rogue was going to tell him what was going on. He lacked the choice to make up his own mind and Syrinx had every intention of making that abundantly and vehemently clear. Shoulders rolled and his tail was out to act as a rudder and display his dominance. No bullshit today, boy.