YOU KNOW WHEN THAT SHARK BITES, WITH HIS TEETH, DEAR SCARLET BILLOWS START TO SPREAD FANCY GLOVES, THOUGH, WEARS OLD MACHEATH, DEAR SO THERE'S NEVER, EVER A TRACE OF RED He came from the south. Silver and unassuming in the distance. He moved at the pace of one who had long to travel, and had no plans of stopping. Each stride was powerful and forged out of precise consideration for what the future had in plan for him. Icarus Vonecci was a careful man, even if his actions in the past may not have indicated it. Perhaps the only evidence that he was a particularly careful man was that he still existed. Worms had not consumed his corpse yet, and his soul still rested easily on Mother Earth. Suddenly, imperceptibly, the silver knight lingered in the dark forest. His eyes gazed out at the foliage that hid him from view. The same thought that had nagged him before came around once more - would this place be his resting place? But something tugged his attention away from his surroundings. His ears pulled forward, and his hackles rose a silver line of mountains down the tip of his spine. Someone lingered just out of reach in the surrounding darkness. Even Icarus wasn't entirely sure what it was that had tipped him off - was it the changing winds, the crack of leaves underfoot? Or was it purely intuition? It settled deep in the pit of his breast as he watched with flaming eyes the blackness that surrounded him. Night was a bitch of a mistress and was an unlucky time of the day for the mercenary. If there was even a semblance of light, he shone like a multifaceted diamond. Silver hairs shimmered and flashed in the moonlight as the man turned his body. The features of his colossal face wrinkled and deepened as a lethal row of teeth showed themselves to the outside world. It's impolite to follow someone. Or did your mother never teach you that?

He was strong, he knew he was. For the first two years of his life, he had been following his mother. She was a strong fighter, but she was not a male. No matter how many kings she defeated nor how many thrones she sat upon, she would always be a female, vulnerable to the whispers of a man. It had been a few days since he followed the silver male. Lavender eyes shone with mischief as he balanced himself upon silent paws. She had taught him how to do this, how to follow without being seen. Even if his pelt was of the purest white, he could hide and not be seen. At least, that was the goal. Eros rolled back on his pads, preventing the clicking of his nail on the hard stone. For a moment, he let his lavender eyes slip past the man who had sired him. Icarus. He knew of him, he spoke to him a few times since he was a child, but it was not he who raised him. Mother and father created him out of the neediness of the moment. They had even spared once, but there was always a passion that laid underneath their fights.

Ears flickered as he turned back to the silvery form of his father. He had stopped, his red eyes gleaming in the moonlight. Eros mentally shook his head. He was overrated. Perhaps he was not the selfish demon he was set out to be, but at the same time. Icarus was an unknown entity, an entity that Eros wanted to explore further. After all, Icarus was as much a part of him a his mother. Ironic how he didn't look like either parent who was cloaked in silvery pelts. He was russet and tan with small areas of black and lavender eyes. His mother was sunshine and the sea and his father was... well, he didn't know what he was. Eros paused near a ridged incline in the stones. If he wanted, his lithe form could jump it and be higher than his father, but there were too many variables for that to happen. A loose rock could tumble to the ground and clatter or perhaps Icarus would see a flash of his beige fur. Eros seen a flash of white. Teeth. A small smirk grace his lips as his father's husky voice broke the silent of the night.

"It's impolite to follow someone. Or did your mother never teach you that?" He still had some training to do. Eros stood where he was, half in the shadows and roughly ten feet away from his father downwind. "She taught me many things, but most were of higher importance than that." Like how not to be caught. Tail waved behind him in irritation with himself. He was better than that. For a moment he had allowed his guard to drop and that was when he was vulnerable...just like his mother. Pink tongue slowly slid across the outside of his teeth as he stared as his father. "It seem you haven't changed, father. What brings you all the way out here?"



"speech"

YOU KNOW WHEN THAT SHARK BITES, WITH HIS TEETH, DEAR SCARLET BILLOWS START TO SPREAD FANCY GLOVES, THOUGH, WEARS OLD MACHEATH, DEAR SO THERE'S NEVER, EVER A TRACE OF RED Icarus Vonecci had not met his children. He had seen glimpses of them when they were whelps, but he had left before they had truly known a real father. Duty had demanded him. It was the lie he told to himself, over and over. The phrase was burned into his mind like a hot iron. It was fleshy, pink, and angry. Every blink of his eyes reminded him of his failings. His failings to everyone that had ever associated with him, everyone that had ever tried to make him into something better. From those lands he had fled, pushing himself further and further away from the family that lay behind. Away from the guilt that dug wicked nails deep into his breast. But Icarus was not strong enough mentally to acknowledge his mistakes. They were no corporeal being that could be challenged in battle. They could not be beaten back with any amount of ferocity. But as the silver mercenary turned his body to face the one who had been following him all this way, his mind could not be ready for that which faced him. Burning eyes greeted the beast which stood lurking in the underbrush of the woods. Although the boy did not even look like him or his kin, Icarus knew - looking deep in the eys of the boy - that they were related. His facial features were keen and determined. The boy was colored a pale russet, but the eyes screamed with the charm of one who was green and wet behind the ears. They were the eyes of one who was wholeheartedly determined. He could not be returned to whence he came. Icarus felt he was looking into a pool of water. And the words that dropped from the stranger's mouth were even more peculiar. It seems you haven't changed, father. What brings you all the way out here? For the first time in many years, Icarus hadl ost his ability for speech. The realization had left him reeling. The man opened his mouth, but words would not fall from them. Just sniffing the flowers. That's what old people do, right? His voice was without affect. It contained the same traits as it always did - the smile curving each and every syllable into amusement. But within the man's chest, his guilt seemed to have caught up to him. Deep in him it wailed and screamed. Claws dragged their way across his belly. Icarus was guilt-ridden, but the thought that he was affected by the sight of his son seemed distant on the surface. His eyes burned with an all-seeing gaze, the hint of a smile dancing on his face. So who told you to seek me out? The words came out slightly harsher than the man intended. He wanted to lash out at something, stuck as he was under the thumb of anxiety. He wanted to leave.

Emotions swirled behind the cold, hard film of his lavender eyes. Ears perked forward as his father's red eyes looked at him, equally emotionless. Icarus said nothing, just looked at him as if searching for something, anything that would misplace him as his son. Perhaps Icarus had more siblings that were out there, but he only knew of his small, broken family. His mother was always training, striving to become better and to out run the female stereotype. Eros met that gaze, head rising as he did so. His heart beat against his ribcage, threatening to force its way out at any moment, but he didn't show it. He didn't show the anxiety he felt at being turned away, because there was no way in hell that he would allow such a thing to happen. Nail dug into the rocks beneath his large paws, the small sound of scraping sounding in the silence between them. There was nothing but genetics tying them together.

"So who told you to seek me out?" The voice was harsh, but nothing Eros didn't expect. The man before him, if the stories were true, had survived wars, ran a pack, and took whatever he wanted. He didn't ask for anything and if he didn't want to acknowledge his bastard son, then who else would acknowledge him. Eros wanted to know the man who had sired him. The boy thought of mentioning Kayona, but it seemed the two only had a passion for each other that one night, any other time they were realized competition for Kayona had been the leader of the same pack Icarus had created later down the road. Their paths had crossed numerous times and yet, they were incompatible. A slight shake of his head was given, a gesture that would have easily been swallowed up by the darkness. Eros didn't move closer to his father, but remained where he was. There was no point acting like this was a beloved family reunion, because it wasn't. "I've come on my own accord. I would like to get to know the man who sired me," he said. There was no reason to hide his feelings in this, but his voice was cold but truthful. He would not fail, not when it came to his own wants and desires.



"speech"