Winter had come, and had brought with it sheets and sheets of snow. Already the ground was thoroughly coated with the white powder, and he had a feeling that much more of it would accumulate before all was said and done. The chill in the air was exciting, though, and so he found no fault in winter's touch. His hot breath sent forth fog from his lips as he exhaled, his coat instantly being dappled with snow as he exited his den. The Sound was his destination, and nothing could stand in his way. He'd long since given up on having his brother's company, and had taken to calling on Lysis more often than not. This time was no exception, and his tenor notes would grace the air as he passed her den. He knew not whether she was still sleeping, but it was likely she would hear his call regardless of her location. Kyarst padded on, leaving room for her to join him if she chose to, but not bothering to wait for her to rouse herself. They knew their way around this place like the back of their paw, and he had no doubt in his mind she could track him with ease. The narrow entrance to the sound opened up before him, and he slipped between the cliffs confidently. There was an idle smile upon his face, if only to look more handsome and distinguished. The grin remained as he realized the winter had brought the seals and penguins back - and somewhere among this fray ought to be his friend Atlas, and perhaps a meal. ?speak,?

Though Lysis Armada had been born in the autumn, and she had been den-ridden for much of her first winter, she was truly a child of the north. She felt at home as the snow finally began to fall, the temperature slowly declining with each day until even the midday sun no longer felt warm. With the rumors of her father's improving health, and winter's obvious arrival, she could not help but feel delighted. She couldn't help but wonder about the fate of Glaciem; but she was not afraid. Even without her father, the Armadas would hold the throne of Glaciem for eternity, of that she as certain. The familiar voice of her half-brother would rouse her from her afternoon nap, pulling her from dreams of snow and ice. The waking world was not alarmingly different -- from the entrance of the den all she saw was white, and she felt the cold air greeting her as she pulled herself to all fours. His voice was a welcome one, and she slipped from the protection of her den to trail after him, but not before parting her jaws widely and letting a yawn escape her throat. His scent was as familiar as anyone's, and finding him hardly took any effort. "My brother," she greeted him sweetly as she drew closer, her tail curling and waving above her back. Though he was younger than she, he was certainly not what she could consider immature, and she found herself preferring his company to most -- except perhaps her litter-mate, Drashiel. "Tell me -- have you heard anything of father?" Her question was sudden, hardly a greeting at all, but a question she found difficult to contain.

Emerald pools so much akin to his mother's would scan frantically for the figure of Atlas. He'd taken to traveling more often with his own kind, and while Kyarst missed him he hadn't been plagued with loneliness for long. Still, it would be nice to catch up with his feathered friend. Eyes did not fall upon the penguin, but rather a young seal ailing in the distance. It seemed as if he might have been attacked by a shark, for his back flippers were shredded and he was bawling loudly. No other seals came to his aid, and this confused the pup. With haste he would slither toward the injured creature, curiosity and bloodlust brimming in his features. Testosterone drove him forward, but the scent of estrogen brought him back to reality. ?Sister,? he greeted her - for half or whole mattered little to him. She queried of their father, to which he would snort. ?He's better - but still absent most of the time. I haven't even really talked to him.? There was a note of bitterness in his tone, but it was mostly overwhelmed by affection. No matter how frustrating his father might be, Kyarst would love him eternally. ?Check out that seal over there. I wonder why no one's helping it?? It seemed as if the seal were abandoned by all of its kind. Did it have no mother or father to tend to it? No healers to aide it in this time of urgent need? It was pitiful, really - and the boy thought it best that it just die and not continue living in misery. An ear laid back, followed quickly by the other. ?We should do something. We should kill it. It's going to die anyway.? The last phrase was mostly to assure himself and her that this was the right thing to do. It had to be. He skirted forward until he was standing over the bawling seal. Jaws hung agape as he began to pant, the adrenaline heating his body. Would she join him? ?speak,?

Though she was worried about Isardis, and feared for his health and safety often, she could hardly imagine him actually dying. To her, and to most of the Armada children, he was invincible. How anything could defeat him, even a sickness, was beyond her. He would survive, and persevere, as he always did -- but that didn't stop her from worrying about him. "I miss him," she commented idly, but missing him was a common feeling. How many children he had to tend to, even she was not sure, and it seemed a common wish for his children to spend time with him more. She was surprised that they hadn't fought for his attention as youngsters, but instead had grown used to his scarcity and simply treasured the few moments they had with him. Her own gaze fell to the injured seal, eying it with vague disgust. "I wonder," she repeated, cocking her head as she gazed at it. "Imagine if we were such savages. Abandoning the sick and the weak, leaving them to die." It was a strange thought, but it seemed to be what had happened here. His suggestion was to kill it -- she shrugged. She wondered why boys -- at least, her siblings -- were so much hungrier for violence and for blood than she. Perhaps it was a trait she ought to explore. She trailed beside him, staring down at the helpless thing. "Shall we?" her own jaws parted, aiming to rip out the thing's throat with a quick swipe, hoping that Kyarst would join her. The rush of adrenaline was addicting, and she suddenly realized why the boys must feel so eager to fight sometimes; because it just felt good.

He continued to pant like a sadistic beast over the weary head of the seal. He could almost hear the thrum, thrum, thrum of the seal's blood beating through it's jugular - though it was definitely his imagination. She queried and with haste he would nod, his thirst for blood and violence egging him on. There were two flashes of ivory fangs, one was hers followed swiftly by his. The metallic taste of blood frothed into his jaws and he drank it with haste. The seal only bawled once that he heard - and then was silenced by their deadly duo of jaws. It didn't move, and for a moment he wondered if they'd done it wrong - but then he realized that this was what dead things looked like. "It's dead," he commented with much less emotion than he should have offered to the cadaver. "That felt good." The prior statement was entirely true and entirely prideful as the young Armada relished in the sheer joy of his first kill. There was perhaps no one he'd rather share this moment with, and his eyes quickly flicked to her. "Have you ever killed anything before?" She was older, so the odds of her having done so were rather high - but somehow he suspected she wasn't an expert at it. His jaws, now peppered with blood, continued to hang over the seal, idly wondering what they would do with it now that it was dead. His father had brought them a seal once before, and it had been delicious, so eating it was definitely on the top of his list.



"Speech"
'thoughts'

The babe felt her own chest heave, lungs laboring as she panted alongside her half-brother. For so long she had been frail and sickly, kept from the world in fear she might not make it at all. But she had defied nature, and she had grown strong and sharp -- and with each day, she found a new reason to live. She could hear the gentle thrumming of her own heartbeat pounding softly in her ears as her face grew hot with the rush of adrenaline. Today, she had found some kind of thrill in violence and blood, though she knew they had been putting the creature out of its misery. It was different than killing for food, and she found herself finally understanding why so many wolves were drawn to fighting and violence. 'That felt good,' he commented, and she nodded slowly, somewhat speechless. "Very." Her agreement came after a moment of silence. "Just some small game, and what we took down during the hunting lesson." But that was different. It was for food, for survival -- not for fun or amusement. Lysis licked her lips free from the blood, finding the taste strange but not exactly unpleasant. "What should we do with it?" she asked curiously, tilting her head to eye him with bright eyes, her question mirroring his own thoughts. He'd been hurt, but not sick -- surely he would still be good to eat, but it seemed a strange proposition. "Or should we just leave it?"