Turbulent days turned into turbulent nights. Turbulent nights meant uneasy sleep. Ever since Daemon had turned a yearling, it felt like what he knew to be stable and true was starting to erode away. There was always that lingering wonder of if Elysium would still exist when he woke in the morning or if everything would have finally fallen apart. There was no doubt in the lad's mind that his uncle Deimos was a weak leader and would bring the downfall of their family's pack, but he was powerless to do anything to stop it. On top of all that, going into adolescence had awoken things inside Daemon—feelings and things he didn't know how to explain. Aggression towards other brutes, a sudden keen interest in the faes around him... But with everything else going on, the boy just stewed in his own head, letting the maelstrom of hormones and unbridled drives run rampant.

His unsettled state even manifested itself in his sleep. Slumber came uneasy to Daemon, the lad tossing and turning in his bed while a storm rumbled outside. At a year old, Daemon had hit his massive dire size, and much of his puppy fat had begun to melt away, now somewhere in the middle of the metamorphosis from pup to adult. Thin and built of not quite rippling muscle, but more like lean planes waiting to be chiseled away and defined. His paws kicked at the furs as he slipped into a restless sleep, falling into the darkness of unconsciousness. No dreams came to him yet, just an empty blackness of possibility that he felt like he was slowly falling into, like sinking into the dark abyss of the ocean.

This did not feel like his normal dreams.

"Daemon Mendacium"

A spark. The smallest light to illuminate the darkness. Light made the shadows deeper, darker, more alive. It had been such a long time since anyone had come to play. From the thickest of the shadows, a form began to move. Fur hissed like snakes and bones crackled like kindling. The world seemed to inhale deeply, holding its breath. Quick as a whip, the moving shadow slid from its resting place, creeping ever closer to the luminescence in the distance. What was it? Who was it? It had to be someone. Perhaps one of the many bastard children that he had littered across the world. The ones lucky enough to have mothers that weren't beaten, abused, eaten and used. Or maybe they were unlucky. Time would tell. A brute of slate and charcoal and bone moved into the clearing. All around, the dark silhouettes of leafless trees rose up, their clawed branches reaching towards the blackened skies. Oxx tiptoed around the sleeping wolf. A child. A boy, unfortunately. Lowering his nose, the massive beast snuffled behind one ear, scenting the boy. A low, glacial rumble of interest reverberated through the beasts chest. Familiar, yet wholly unfamiliar. Who did this little bastard belong to? "Time to wake up," Oxx purred in a grinding singsong as he peeled away, giving the boy room to rouse himself. He wondered what fun they could have. What fun would he allow himself to have? Again, again... time would tell. "Speech"

The infinite darkness suddenly gave way to a light as Daemon woke in a surreal space to feel something or someone snuffle at his ear and then bid he wake up in a melodic voice. The yearling's sharp cerulean eyes snapped open and he whipped a large lion paw around, claws extended to reach out at the voice, not knowing if it was threat or foe. His claws caught nothing but air though as the wolf had stepped back from him, towering above him, his massive slate and ash form looming. Daemon blinked in confusion and looked around at the world—the sparse clearing surrounded by the dark skeletons of barren trees rising high into the sunless sky—before returning his gaze back to the stranger before him. "Stay back!" the yearling snarled, fangs bared, ears pinned back. Alert, wary. He did not know this place or this wolf and his guarded aggression was evident. An aggression that had always been innate and unexplained.

"Who are you?" asked the young brute, eyes narrowed with suspicion as he rolled to his belly, clawed digits gripping into the silty earth. "What the hell is this place?" Dae's eyes moved around the seemingly dead forest once more, his fur bristling, standing on end against the unnatural chill in the air. The marking on his face glowed brighter with his heartbeat as he fixed his pointed gaze at the strange wolf. And yet... the longer he glowered at the stranger, the more he felt like he did know this wolf. Somehow, instinctively. What madness was this?

"Daemon Mendacium"