A very sleepy Wendigo lay curled by beside a volcanic vent as close as he could get without risking (too much anyway) the chance of catching on fire. He'd just woken up but it was much too cold for his liking so instead of doing anything productive he was opting to sulk where it was warm. Eventually he'd have to get up for something, but for now he was content to soak up the warmth, tolerate the sulfuric stink, and repeatedly scald his paw by airplaning it over top of the vent.

He yawned and floated his paw over top the vent again, wiggling his toes as though it had wings. This wasn't much fun but honestly the warmth was worth it. He could stay here all day and just bask like a lizard on a rock. In fact, he just might...

"Speech"

Mac admittedly didn’t have much to do, either. As a child, though, he wasn’t really permitted to do anything except learn and stay close to the den. He found that boring, of course, and there was nothing wrong with being adventurous - so long as he stayed within pack boundaries. He didn’t see anything wrong with exploring on his own, and familiarizing himself with his home. The speckled child hadn’t met all that many of his family members; he knew his littermates obviously, and his older brother Misery whom he’d been hanging around with and learning stuff from. That was secret, though, because he knew he was Misery’s favorite brother. He knew he’d learn a lot from him.

Traipsing the volcanic mountainside, the boy took care not to get too close to the volcanic vents. He’d been warned about how hot they could get, and he didn’t want to get burned. Not that he paid much mind to danger — it was his middle name! Well, technically, it was Sepulchre, but he’d never heard anyone use it so therefore it didn’t exist to him. It was then the child’s volcano-trekking antics were interrupted as his glowing grey eyes casted themselves upon an equally spotted figure. He tilted his head and grinned, loping towards the wolf who’s fur was colored much like his own. He paused to think of the older siblings names he’d learned - Misery, Kali..Carnage..ugh, so many! He finally settled on one name he knew fit the male who’s fur was as chaotic as his own.

"Hey, you’re Wendigo, right? I’m Macabre, or Mac for short." Never his older brother mind how he knew his name - he’d kept a list in his head but only recognized others when he saw it was convenient. He could always choose not to perceive the existence of his family members because there were a lot of them. But they still were family, so he did care about them. He approached the wolf a bit closer, careful to mind the vent with a wide grin that curled his lips in a sickening angle. "Wanna play with me?" He asked, though it sounded more like an obligation. Older siblings had to play with their little siblings. It was the rules..rules he believed, anyways.

Wendigo wriggled around just far enough so he could see his little brother. He didn't bother to lift his head so his cheek bunched up around his eye forcing him to regard Macabre solely with the other. "Yes, Wendigo." Save for that one eye roving over the boy, Wendigo's expression remained unchanged as he studied him. This was the first time he'd seen one of his little siblings. They'd been too tiny until now, which was an excuse he honestly didn't believe because if he'd been able to be around them he would have been the best most protective big brother ever.

"Play?" He leaped up suddenly and spun a quick circle before moving to loom over Macabre excitedly. "Oh, I just love to play! What do you want to do?" Wendigo was a sucker for games. All kinds of games, really. Chasing, pouncing, burning. You know, the classics.

"Speech"

Mac paused as his older brother scanned him over, though he didn’t pay much mind. He didn’t feel like he was being watched or judged. Just..observed. He recognized that a lot of his older siblings either liked him and his littermates, or merely tolerated them. The latter term being quite close to despised, but you couldn’t despise your little brothers and sisters, right? Not that the spotted child really gave a care. He didn’t lost sleep over what his family thught of his existence. He had quite selfish mirals in that he lived for himself and his own goals, though he did have a spot in his cruel heart for his siblings and family. He still cared..mostly.

Still, to his relief, his fellow speckled sibling jumped up at the notion of a game, circling about him excitedly. Mac let his cow-spotted tail wag just as eagerly, his expression and mannerisms matching the chaotic male’s tempo. "Awesome!" Mac chirped, pausing to ponder what they could play with his grin curling his lips. What could they play, hm? After a few moments of careful thought, the boy let his glowing grey eyes look up to his taller brother woth a mischievous glint. "How about a spar? You can show me some cool moves!" After all, the more spars he did, the stronger he’d become. A rather malicious goal hidden by the guise of innocent play. Though he did like playing in general, it was all in good fun.