His expression cold and unyielding, Pyrrhic goaded Erystotle over the border and into the bamboo maze. He said nothing beyond an occasional command as they walked and would ignore any question put towards him. Erystotle didn't get to ask questions. They'd talked and there wasn't anything left to say at this point. The cursed boy just needed to be dealt with.

They wound through the maze for some time until Pyrrhic found a place he thought was suitable for his needs. ”Here. Stop.” He looked around as though considering the possibilities and then, satisfied, nodded to himself. Finally he looked at Erystotle. Pyrrhic motioned towards the ground and then commanded, ”Dig.”

Erystotle was giving up, his life was forfeit and his curse had finally turned back around on him. It would finally claim his life like it had been attempting since his birth. The horned yearling was silent and followed Pyrrhic’s simple instructions as he forced him over Risen’s border and into the maze of bamboo. His blue marked ears were plastered to his skull as his mind raced with thoughts of his stolen future. He’d ruined the Emperor’s life, he’d destroyed the pack, all on his own.

His head hung low as delicate paws carried him forward as Pyrrhic goaded him mercilessly. He deserved this. The words kept running over in his head as he wished that the Abraxas had just killed him when he asked for the end. Eventually Pyrrhic would bark the command to halt, and Erys would oblige without hesitation. He tried not to look at his now captor as he was commanded to dig.

He didn’t want to think about the reasoning for the job, was he digging his own grave? His jail cell? Did it matter anymore? Erystotle’s mind grew foggy and with no more prodding he began to dig at the cold earth. Before the night was through his paws would be bloody and sore, but hopefully he’d be dead.

Even though they had already played the 'what if' game, Pyrrhic felt drawn to a second round. He had a nasty, nagging feeling in his belly and he simply couldn't get away from it. He kept his jaw set and his chin held high as he watched Erystotle dig, but the feeling persisted. When he couldn't take it any longer he started to pause back and forth behind his captive. Back and forth, back and forth. His eyes darted between the ground and Erystotle's back but no matter where they landed they were distant and angry.

He gave up on keeping a stiff upper lip and began to chew on the bottom one to keep it from quivering. When he could take it no longer Pyrrhic spun to face Erystotle. His stance was wide and ready as though he was prepared to do battle even though he'd taken no steps towards to Erystotle. "If you were in my place what would you do, huh?"

Erystotle was slowly giving up, of course he should have done so long ago. He should have given up when Lydia pushed him out of the way of the branch. None of this would have happened, Malleus would have still been alive. The volcano wouldn’t have exploded. All of Boreas would have been better off if he was dead, but he wasn’t. His cursed self was still alive, and still had the potential to destroy more lives. If Pyrrhic left him here in this hole, maybe it would have been better off.

Pyrrhic paced behind him as he dug, not that the horned boy was paying him much attention to begin with. His life was coming to an end, he could feel it. Finally the curse would turn on him and consume him. Erys jumped as Pyrrhic spoke again, his voice rough as he demanded an answer. Erystotle paused his infernal task and his tarnished silver gaze fell back on the cream marked Abraxas. He was to be forced in the new Emperor’s shoes. What would he do?

Erys knew he’d never be able to kill anyone, nor did he have the stomach to enslave them. What did he do if he was faced with a curse like he was. What did he do? Erys certainly didn’t have an answer. ”I wouldn’t be asking a piece of scum like me what they thought.” He told himself internally. His ears plastered to his skull Erys couldn’t meet Pyrrhic’s strong gaze. ”I don’t know.” He whimpered softly, what did one do in this situation. What would he do if the roles were reversed. ”Find a counter curse?” He had no idea what he’d do.

More than anything else about their present situation Pyrrhic hated Erystotle's cowed demeanor. He wanted him to be a villain. He wanted him to be unapologetic and hateful. It would certainly be easier to hate him if he was crowing about his victory of the Abraxas, but instead Pyrrhic had been saddled with this sad, mewling specimen. Even though Erystotle was a problem it felt beneath him to kick the little beast. "Find a counter curse," he repeated slowly, trying to decide how much worth to assign this unusual and unexpected answer.

He nodded to himself, glanced up at the night sky, and frowned to himself all without a word as he considered the answer. "And why would you do that? Wouldn't that be wasting time on someone who hurt you and your family?" Pyrrhic was asking honestly although there was a hard edge to his voice he didn't try to hide. He wasn't sure what he was expecting from Erystotle. Some kind of magic answer that solved all of his problems would be awfully nice.

Erystotle didn’t shift his submissive demeanor, his mismatched ears pulled as tightly to his head as his tail was to his belly. Erys never wished the effect of his curse on anyone, especially those that showed him kindness. Lydia hadn’t deserved to die and Pyrrhic didn’t deserve his father dying. Still, he seemed more receptive to the off the wall suggestion than he expected. The words were repeated slowly back to him and Erys debated about starting to dig again in hopes that Pyrrhic just forgot about him.

”I..” Erys was uncertain, still taken off guard at his opinion even being considered. What was the point of even sparing his life? Erys was better off dead, all of the damage he could cause. ”I wouldn’t want the curse unleashed on the world. It would be safer if it was negated instead of risking a worse curse if I was killed or kept.” He muttered softly. This wasn’t a kindness to him, it was prevention of worse consequences.