Drip. Drip. The gentle sound of water droplets cascading downward to the cave floor echoed through empty space. The moisture had been clinging desperately to the stone ceiling, and slowly, drop by drop, each individual droplet was sent spiraling into a puddle on the floor. The phenomenon was not visible; no, the cavern was dim and poorly light, and it set an eerie scene on this particular winter night. The boy -- no, man -- who wanted into the depths was not a stranger to fear. A child of Kaios and Newt Saxe himself, he'd been forged in blood and flame, never destined for anything pure or good. Darkness would be his fate, and he had begun to accept it quietly. His paws slapped gently against the stone floor as he slipped into the depths of the cavern, grateful for the respite from Cataleya, though he knew well that she had not misplaced him. It was with his permission he had slipped into the cavern, and he would return from it before long. Though Basilisk Saxe had healed -- albeit rather slowly -- he was not yet strong enough to free himself from her. He was no idiot; it would be foolish to try to win back his freedom so soon. Like walking straight into the fiery depths of hell. Once, death had seemed a lovely option -- but now living seemed more appropriate. Almost as a form of rebellion. A gentle snicker left his lips as he slipped deeper into darkness. Luckily, all that remained of his injury was a scar, set beneath his thick black fur, only visible if one chose to search for it. And there wasn't much room for vision here, not at this ungodly hour. Something drew him further into the unknown. Perhaps some day his mother would return, to avenge him, to regain her rightful son. But such things were far too good to be true. So with a heavy heart, brimming with spite and hatred, Basilisk Saxe continued into the darkness, oblivious to the snow that had begun to fall outside.

The man would press through the night with an agile but leisurely gait. His steps were always quiet and his body was always pressed against the moonlit shade. He spent most days tending to his children, understanding that his presence was needed because in the end Medusa had been true to herself and could not love them. Deteste loved the small beings in an endearing fashion but was certain to distance himself from them as they grew for they would be their own individuals soon and he would not smother then regardless of the path they chose for he now realized that parents had little say in that choice. Now. Now Deteste found himself taking a wide patrol about the den, dipping into other territories and stumbling upon the wind carved caves before him. Even now the seasons continued their work for the winter breeze howled into that emptiness.



He would enter the caves seeking the freshly filtered water upon it's damp, rock floor. But once the man's thirst was quenched he was drawn further into the darkness without a reason clearly known to him. Perhaps he was attracted to the absolute darkness before him. Thickest in a winter night where the moon was but a sliver. Perhaps he sensed Basilisk in that darkness, the young man's breath damp and constant was the water that thudded against the cave floor. There was light yet in the depths of the cave. Deteste could make out sharp black walls and the grey forms of stray rocks and mineral formations. But there was little light for his eyes to reflect before him and to the company he had yet to stumble upon his gaze would be a dull blue upon a ghost's body.



It was not long before the distance was closed between them. Basilisk's iridescent pelt outlined his phantom form in a pale, violet light. Deteste was not surprised to see the boy fabricate from the hollow darkness and thought it ironic that they would meet in such circumstances again. He had yet no judgement for Basilisk. Perhaps he would be form one now. For the boy was full grown and his ways were being set. "Hello Basilisk." He would speak softly realizing that the cave would amplify his voice. His timbre was unwavering but not firm. And as breath returned from him after the statement Deteste would be greeted by the smell of Basilisk's sickness, company and travel. He would not fall into the temptation of curiosity but keep a perspective limited to what the boy wanted him to see. He owed him that much for he had advised Jupiter upon her death match with Kaios. He would never take lightly to sharing the skill of taking life. Even if it were not he doing it.

The audible approach of another snatched his attention rather easily. Was it Cataleya? Brows furrowed as his snout was lifted from the ground, inhaling the unfamiliar scent that had begun to creep into his chosen territory for the moment. Since being claimed by Cataleya, as a mere possession, he had grown to be colder, more fierce. The hate burned that much more strongly inside his chest, and he felt the familiar sensation of bile bubble up within his throat as a snarl threatened to escape his lips. Lips curled in an agitated sneer, teeth peeking out subtly from behind ashen lips. The brute had healed, and yet he continued to remain near her. Seething, lying it wait, as though someone might come and save him. Perhaps his mother? His sister? And yet nothing happened. All that seemed to change was the weather, which had slowly become more frigid and unbearable. And he remained just as uncertain here, within the cave, waiting. It was only when the male's blue gaze became visible that he realized the scent was not all that unfamiliar. "Deteste..." Came his own gruff response, his voice lacking much emotion at all. The snarl disappeared, replaced by an eerily calm expression. How many nights had he thought of the meeting in the dark cavern -- he longed to reunite with Aegira, to corrupt the pretty little girl, to make her his. It was only in retrospect that he realized the impurity of his desires, and he embraced them silently. Slowly, with painstaking cautious, he would twist his over-sized frame to face him better, to get a better view of him. Ears twitched from where they sat on his skull, and his purple gaze sought a better view as his sight adjusted to the darkness. "What brings you here?"

As their interaction came to be Deteste found himself thinking of the strangeness of their first meeting. He had seen through Basilisk's intentions yet he had had no ill feeling towards the boy. Perhaps he had seen through those intentions and saw the great loneliness that was eating the child away. Deteste often thought he should have led both of the children past the entrance of the cave. Yet each had their path to follow. Deteste could only pick one to guide. Short as that guidance was for loneliness was rooted in the boy and his future would not intertwine with light. And Deteste understood this for the same root stabbed at his own being. Perhaps he had entirely bled hatred from himself in the many killings he had been forced to partake in. But the man knew darkness and had accepted it's role in his life. For there need not always be malice in the dark.



The far echo of his name hitting a distant cave wall would draw him back to the present. Deteste thought often but speculation weighed heavily on his true opinions. He was a man of facts and truths. Without them he truly had no fucking idea. It was just the way of it. He would watch with some curiosity at Basilisk's cautious behavior. The man seating himself with a disposition of ease as the boy made his inquiry. I like the north. I am drawn to the cold. he spoke with honesty. He was unsure if Basilisk was aware of the recent dethroning. Truly, it had affected Deteste little. He was a patient man. There were other places among the woodland where he may reside. And yourself? he would inquire after a lengthy pause. A mirror, after all, was what most sought in their conversations. Perhaps Basilisk wanted Deteste to ask why he was here.

The strangeness of his predicament dawned on him silently. He wished badly he could reunite with his sister -- to even see Aegira, or Odette -- and yet he was growing slowly content at being with Cataleya. Her dominance subdued him; and though his anger had only grown, he found a strange sense of stability when he was beside her. Basilisk Saxe wondered idly what she would do if she found Deteste here, with him; but part of him hoped she would leave the two of them alone for now. His posture shifted, his discomfort only vaguely obvious. Slowly the male shifted into view as he grew accustomed to his dark pelt against the lack of light in the cavern. Deteste lowered himself, his presence far from threatening, and Basilisk would relax slightly before him. But his question was a bit more alarming, and it took him a moment to answer. "It is the only place I could be alone," came his deliberate answer. And he knew that could easily be changed -- as it had with Deteste arriving. But here, he could be alone and truly feel as so, without knowing Cataleya's eyes were upon him. "How.. is Aegira?" In his mind, they had nothing else in common. Not a thing.

The man would speak after a brief silence for he would take his time to consider Baslisk's words, few as they were. He would speak in a timbre softer than intended, I apologize if I have interrupted your peace, Basilisk. and fall into silence again as if he had forgotten Basilisk's inquiry. It had been long since he had seen Aegira and she had been the only of Jupiter's litter whom he had met. He supposed that the girl was fine. A life in Ludicael was something of a blessing for a child. She is well. I believe it has been long since either of us have seen her. he would respond, his tone strengthened as Deteste gathered his thoughts.



I have children this season. I believe you would like my daughter Circe. He would speak, the words unexpected by the man. Circe was similar to Aegira yet she lacked the lustre of innocence. She was not ill tempered or misbehaved but had understanding beyond her age. How are you. he would inquire, pondering the boy's healing wounds but not seeking them with his sight. Deteste would continue a pattern of repetition in the conversation. Reflecting the boy's inquiries so long as they were open ended enough for Basilisk to decide the length of his reply. The man's expression would be stoic yet unyielding as he added a final sentence to his dialogue. You may ask me to leave, if you wish.

Was it unfair of him to be sitting, conversing with this man, when his main goal in life was to see his friend dead? To watch her blood spill out on the ground before him in a beautiful puddle? It seemed they were more than friends, since he had recognized the way Aegira had ran to him as though he were a caretaker of some sort. Perhaps they were even lovers; he had no idea, and part of him didn't care to find out, for he was beginning to tolerate Deteste. Perhaps even like him? But it had been so long since he had been civil, he was almost forgetting how to interact normally. "Don't apologize. I enjoy the break from the monotony." It was a life he had condemned himself to -- for now. He would wait, hoping desperately his sister or even his mother would rescue him. Perhaps he was strong enough to claim his own freedom, but part of him wanted to know someone cared. Anyone. But he wasn't entirely unhappy with Cataleya, though he was as lost and confused as ever. Masked perfectly by his strange display of detachment, hiding the turmoil beneath. "What purpose do you have for them?" He asked, once Deteste stated he'd sired children. It seemed strange to him, but he also had never exactly had a normal childhood with regular parents. The idea of bringing children into such an awful place was a dreadful thought. Even Cataleya was angered at her unexpected pregnancy. "I can't imagine ever wanting pups." He would be an awful father. He was certain of it. "I.. am to help raise children soon. Not my own, but my ..." He faltered, realizing he was speaking when he hadn't been asked; and why? Did part of him want another to know his misfortune and feel for him, even if he didn't care himself? It had been so long since anyone had given a second thought to his well-being. "My partner's. And I truly wonder if I am the right fit for the job." They were not partners, only in a sense ... they traveled together, but only because he was forced to. Who knew where he would be otherwise? He shifted again, never quite comfortable speaking to another. Deteste offered to leave, but Basilisk merely shrugged. "I'd rather talk to you than myself."

The man would feel the draw of the boy's loneliness and fully submit to it. It was perhaps a dangerous things to do for in all truth Deteste could sympathize with the boy all he wanted and never know his true intentions. Yet he would take this leap of faith. The great decision made in a minute moment, a thought, a feeling. Nothing. For the air between them was no thicker nor thinner and the energy from them no more amicable than before. Deteste would consider Basilisk's words carefully yet he could not help the sudden, deep chuckle that pressed through his lips as the boy questioned the purpose of children. The decision wasn't exactly up to me. As untrue as those words may sound. Yet he cared deeply for them. Even for his son Severus who attempted to, in every act and breath, to draw some sort of anger from Deteste. Yet at times the man found himself wishing that such a day would never come.



Puzzled by Basilisk's sequence of statements it would take Deteste a moment to choose what he would say next. The smile that had curled upon his jowl at the mention of his recent litter would tighten but the man would avoid expressing any confusion as not to scare the boy away. Basilisk was choosing to tell him such things. It was not his business to be confused, much less to prod. That is a curious position, indeed. he would state. Acknowledging the situation without questioning it. I should advise you, children can be rather complex. If you cannot care for them then leave them be. The mother of my children blatantly fails to love them. I imagine it is better to be absent than to mistreat those you ought to treat well. he would speak, giving insight into his life as Basilisk had for his.

A sigh left his pursed lips. Inside his mind was a constant wave of emotional turmoil, and yet he masked his emotions with a carefully placed facade of cold irritation. And yet he softened as Deteste remained here with him, despite the small-talk and despite whatever attitude he might have portrayed to the male he barely knew. His tail curled instinctively about his hindquarters as his posture stiffened slightly at the talk of children. He was beginning to grow anxious at the prospect of being expected to care for them -- though Cataleya had yet to actually bring it up, it was obvious. "Despite your advice, I have no option but to care for them," he remarked dryly. "Even though they are not mine." It was a strange situation, and even now she shifted uncomfortably, as though waiting for something to happen. "I should go," he said suddenly, abruptly, with a bit of uncertainty to his voice. "Before she finds you down here with me." It would be a bad scenario for Deteste -- especially not knowing what kind of mood Cataleya would be in, if she did find the two of them here. I should advise you, children can be rather complex. If you cannot care for them then leave them be. The mother of my children blatantly fails to love them. I imagine it is better to be absent than to mistreat those you ought to treat well. he would speak, giving insight into his life as Basilisk had for his.

"Who is she?" he would find himself abruptly asking, his voice echoing in the distance for he had spoken in a tone amplified by confusion and concern. He would find that his stoic facade had unwittingly taken an expression of worry, ears folded back in the event of Basilisk's anxiety. The young man had given Deteste enough hints and though he could not accurately guess at Basilisk's position he understood that these strange responsibilities he mentioned were completely out of his character. Deteste found Basilisk to be lonely but independent. To know there was a party that broke these traits from the young man caused Deteste to question the intent of the party and the willingness of Basilisk's role.



Poise would return to the man in time. Silence and darkness engulfed the pair, leaving an ocean of uncertain space between them. He would stand to stretch his muscles which had tensed at his intuition, breaking his gaze upon his company as he did. He would stare into the distance seeking the light of approaching morning but find only shadow as if the morning would never come. He did not understand his interest in Basilisk. The man knew that Basilisk had every intention of harming Jupiter. Perhaps he also had plans for Medusa and to endanger the loyalty that had rooted itself in him for the seductress was not like him at all. He would turn to the young man again but with an unseeing and thought sunken gaze before speaking once more. I apologize. You have no obligation to tell me anything. he would state, partially retracting his previous inquiry. Some emotion would return to his gaze but if the expression of care would travel between them in the darkness was unknown to Deteste. Nor did he believe such emotion would be desired from Basilisk. He was fully prepared for his company to depart but he hoped that they would stay.