mature language.

The redwood forest, where the Tortugans resided, had been his home. He had been away from it for some time, but upon returning, he had grown fond of it once again. He had been taken under Deteste's wing, but he had disappeared just as quickly as he had called him. Basilisk was no stranger to abandonment, but this betrayal had hurt him deeply. It was not entirely anger he felt, but he couldn't deny that the pack being handed to another had enraged him. It was no surprise he had returned to Cataleya, the woman that had claimed him almost a year ago -- he had nobody else in the world. She had forced him into submission that one day on the beach, but now his loyalty to her was willing. She had taught him to enforce his dominance on others. To not back down from anything, except her. And she had taken away his last hint of innocence. He could only be grateful that she had not been in heat. He still had little interest in children, even in her own, who she had tried so hard to care for. But since that day -- when he had finally fucked her, something he had imagined but never dare do before -- he couldn't help but want more. He was a man, after all, fueled by his body's desires, and Cataleya seemed more than willing to give in to her own wants. These were his thoughts as the massive brute paced about the lands that he would force himself to love and care for. The forest was different, but not entirely unlikable. Today the fog was thick, cloaking the earth in a thick, almost penetrable mist. One step after another, he carried himself deeper, nose twitching as he took in the scents of the very few wolves that resided here. Soon, they would be called together and given instructions and rules, and recruitment would begin more heavily. He couldn't help but wonder about who she had recruited so far, and the boy that she had claimed. Perhaps it was jealousy, or mere curiosity, but he wanted to know him. All in due time.

Boredom was the boys motivation to push onward, curiosity plaguing his mind as he scouted the unknown territory. He had heard rumors that a pallid wench owned these lands, but he did not care about her feeble authority. He could vaguely remember her face from the last time he had visited her lovely abode, which was when he had been poisoned and moments away from an untimely death. He had believed she was a hallucination caused by his illness, but her fading scent was all too real. These woods had a familiarity to them, and it put him at ease. Something about the deceased foliage and thick mist reminded him of his temporary home, which had been deep within the moor. He would wind between the skeletons of the fallen trees, the fine tips of his hair brushing against the bark as he marked his scent wherever he pleased, a delighted smirk played across his frigid features. Audits would swivel toward his right as the deafening boom of paw steps ensnared his attention. He would turn to meet the stranger, as by now it was too late to escape undetected- or at least he had thought. Before the massive brute would stride past him he would cower toward the earth in an attempt to conceal his presence, just low enough to where the thick vegetation could shelter him. The man would seem to walk straight past him, and Neios would feel his ego swell due to his daring escape. How dumb must this man be to walk straight past him? It would bring a bubble of deranged laughter from his lips, which had given away his pitiful hiding place. He had not yet realized he had laughed out loud, and that the stranger was probably staring at him right now. Speech,

It was easy to find himself lost in the forest. The fog was heavy and thick, obscuring his vision, and underpaw he found that the tree roots were gnarled and strong. They seemed to reach out to snag his paws, threatening to pull him to the ground, but he merely let a low growl escape his throat in irritation. Though his nose searched for the scent of others who might be lurking nearby, he found that the moisture int he air made the scents muddled and faint. And yet one remained stronger than the rest. A slight frown turned down the corners of his lips, his brows furrowing in mild annoyance. Perhaps someone was following him? It certainly was not Cataleya, nor anyone familiar to him. How dare someone trespass already. Though the pack had not quite formed yet, it was still his home, and the idea of just anyone crossing the borders was unpleasant. He could not find him with his eyes, nor with his nose -- but instead, by the sound of the boy's voice. A laugh, so eerie and hollow, yet brimming with amusement. It sounded out, so clear to him, and he would direct himself towards it, eyes alight with fire. The boy was not small, but not quite as large as Basilisk yet. And his pelt -- even though the dense fog -- was a mirror image of his mother's. The memories of her would bring a snarl to his lips, and he would push closer to the boy. "What is so amusing, child?" he spat with annoyance.

The intruder would direct his path back toward Neios, his boisterous words putting a stop to the child's laughter. He would fall silent, eyes opening wide as he took in the massive beast before him, a man who looked so similar to himself, as if he were peering into a mirror. His brow would furrow as he grew confused and curious, something about this man seemed so... familiar. Audits would swivel forward, and a sinister sneer would grace his features as he responded. "You." Again he would snicker, his voice hoarse and hostile as he mocked him. Despite the towering stranger he would not rise, but instead would remain where he was. He would not cower anymore though, and instead he would peer upward in awe as his brain struggled to register why this man seemed so recognizable. Had they met before, or was this an illusion? His mind constantly played tricks on him, so often that reality and his imagination had become one. He rarely bothered to determine what was real, and what wasn't anymore.

The silence would be stifled by his question. Normally, a smug smile might've found its way onto his features -- but something made him wary. Even through the dense fog, twisting and grasping at their pelts, he could see the tint of purple in the boy's pelt. His own annoyance seemed to melt away, fading into something that mirrored the stranger's own curious demeanor. There was no way he knew this child, and yet he seemed too familiar to be a stranger.. "What's your name?" he inquired, taking a step back. His shoulders relaxed, ears swiveling atop his cranium. The boy's tone was mocking but he could not bring himself to feel overly annoyed. He was still a child. "And why do I amuse you, boy?" His mind whirled silently, and he would remain guarded. Luckily, he knew if any trouble arose that Cataleya would be nearby if he called for her -- but he was growing rather bold and so starkly fearless now. He could not help but stare into the stranger's eyes, brilliantly violet like his own. How odd..

They would aimlessly stare at each other for a few moments before the man would finally speak again, his words causing the boys audits to swivel toward him. His name? Why did he want to know his name? "Neios, what's it to ya." He would respond before he could properly think about this mans intentions, his words followed by a furrow of his brow. He would rise from the earth now, standing to his growing height of thirty four inches. He would look upward at the man, their similar gazes meeting as he glared daggers at him. Though when he asked what was so amusing, Neios would erupt into a fit of deranged laughter. The comical thoughts returned, which in turn had caused him to literally laugh out loud. Saliva would drip from the corners of his mouth, and he would lap aimlessly at his nose for no apparent reason, an amused toothy sneer creasing his lips. " Because you're so fucking stupid." Again he would cackle, only this time he would fall onto his side, eyes clenching as his paws folded over his abdomen. He would gasp for air, his toungue rolling out his mouth as he proceeded to mock him. How could he have possibly walked right past him without even a glance? His senses must be broken, because he rarely bathed and often rolled in rotting flesh and the deceased.

What a strange child. So foul and demented; it was obvious from the very look on his face that he was twisted. Even his scent was heavy with the stench of death and rot. "Neios..." he tasted the name on his tongue. It was strange, but not unpleasant. "That's it? Just Neios?" Most wolves he'd met had surnames, but perhaps he was not one of them. His entire demeanor was so bizarre that Basilisk could not help but feel drawn to the child. His gaze remained cold and guarded, even as the boy began to cackle again. His laughter overwhelmed him, to the point where the boy toppled to the ground. Basilisk's tail flicked in mild irritation behind him, waiting for his fit to be over. "Either way, I'm Basilisk Saxe, Monarch of Elysium, ruler of these lands. And you're trespassing. " His tones were cold and unforgiving, though he would be willing to let the boy explain himself. He certainly didn't seem mentally stable, after all.

"Neios... That's it? Just Neios?" Cold amethyst eyes would glance upward as his laughs ceased, his brow furrowing as he began to pull himself onto his stomach, his lengthy legs folding beneath him. His head would cock slightly as he glared into the mans identical stare, his lips creasing into a sneer as he hissed his surname. "Saxe; Neios Saxe." He would rise, his legs unfolding as he pushed himself skyward until he was standing to his full height, his eyes narrowed as he again requested why this man was so intent on knowing his name. "Why." Venom dripped from his noxious lyrics, his hackles beginning to raise as he looked the stranger up and down, a silent challenge that could not go unnoticed. "Either way, I'm Basilisk Saxe, Monarch of Elysium, ruler of these lands. And you're trespassing." A deranged cackle would bubble from the youths lips, his cranium tossing back and his eyes momentarily clenching shut. This brute was a fucking moron! "You own nothing fool." His skull would tip downward so that his frigid stare could align with the strangers, his tail swaying behind him as he took a daring step forward, a snarl beginning to curl his lips. "Cataleya owns these lands. It is you who is trespassing." He was too consumed in the belief he had just successfully turned this man on himself that he had not regarded the identical surname the man attained. The only words he had heeded were "Monarch of Elysium, ruler of these lands. And you're trespassing."

Was this boy dense? He watched with wide eyes as he grew suddenly serious. He spoke his own name. Neios Saxe. No. Was he mocking him, now? A sneer fell on his own dark lips, and he moved sharply as though he might try to tackle the boy. But something about him made him stop. Their pelts were so similar. And their eyes.. "Your parents were Newt and Kaios?" he inquired slowly, ignoring the boy's attempt at scaring him, watching him as he rose tall. His question was careful and deliberate, as though he feared the answer. Could this lunatic truly be his brother? His gaze hardened as the boy accused him of trespassing. "Cataleya and I own these lands," he corrected him swiftly, growing lightly. But most of the menace had left his stare; his interest was in other matters now.

Suddenly the man would stride forward, and the boys pelt would bristle as his fangs unsheathed to flash at his enemy- but suddenly he would stop. His brow would furrow as the man said his parent's name, his eyes widening in astonishment as his sneer faded into an open mouthed stare. "Do not say their names pheasant, only decedents may utter their titles. Not even I could quell my mother or father, rid their names of your vocabulary!" He would aimlessly rant, his fragile mind easily slipping away from the mentioning of his parents. He had never met his father, but he had hear many stories from his mother. Newt was long gone by now, and Neios assumed she was dead too, and although he did not quite understand it, he missed his family dearly. This man did not deserve to say their names, they were a legacy and this scoundrel was disgracing them. "Funny, she never mentioned you." A growl would bubble within his chest as it hummed along with the strangers hostile attitude. The man and the boy would stare each other down, Neios's muscles tensing and preparing to spring at any moment. Who in the fuck was this guy and how did he know his parents? And why was he lying about owning this pack?

Basilisk watched in silent interest as the boy grew hostile once again. His strong reaction proved his suspicions to be correct. His mother had been pregnant when Kaios has been killed; this boy was his brother. He had never seen his mother again, had never caught wind that he'd been gifted with other siblings. A sneer toyed with his lips, but he could not deny the glint of pleasure that had begun to shine in his amethyst gaze. "Idiot," he began with a low chuckle, the sound building up deep within his chest. "I am your brother." It was not easy to admit, but it had become all too clear to him now. His lips twitched into a smirk, amusement dancing on his features. This brother was certainly much more like him that Salamander had ever been, but he was so demented in his own way. He no longer cared that Neios was intruding. All thoughts of the pack and Cataleya would slip from his mind as he struggled to reconcile what he had just come to know. His own flesh and blood -- a brother he had never known, but now had found. "Tell me you don't see your mother in me." They shared such similar qualities, as did Neios -- a pelt that none in all the lands possessed, a gaze so striking that it could belong to no other than a Saxe.