Haunted Wood i made your father scream

The bird the woman had left him stayed at his side. Unplucked, untouched. Rotting by the day. One would think the boy would scarf it down without a second thought, especially seeing he wouldn't know when his next meal would come. But no, he had refused to eat it then and he refused to eat it now. He didn't want to give his captors the satisfaction of seeing him gorge on the food they provided, something they could rip away from him an instant.

Orochi loomed over the bird now. He studied the ants that had got to work desecrating its corpse. Disgusting. This whole place was just horrid. He looked up towards the rim of the pit. Oh how he wished he could climb up there and run away. Someday, but not today.

The creature swaggered on by, head ducking over the wasted bird sitting next to the boy. He grabbed it, pulled it away, and sank to his belly to feast regardless of what the child might desire; he was hungry, and if the boy would not consume the dead thing, he would. It was a little on the tough side for Revui but lets be honest, he was never picky about his meals.

He plucked at it, pulled the limbs from the body. Licked it clean of ants, which he either spat off to the side or ignored outright, swallowing whole. It did not take long before the dead thing was devoured—and then the silver shape of the leviathan rested in place, looking almost content with his current situation. The boy was ignored until this point, and then Revui rolled on to his side and with a reach of his good hind limb, kicked the kid's rear as if to test for life.

And just like that the bird was gone, snatched by his glutinous cell mate. Hey! Orochi was just about ready to go off, but closed his eyes and heaved a heavy sight. I was gonna eat that, he grumbled between teeth. A complete lie but one he felt needed to be told. He couldn't go a second without conflict it seemed.

He watched the man practically devour the bird whole and raised a brow as he rolled over. Why was he so... content? Didn't it make him angry that he was held captive. All this time Orochi had been here and not once had the man tried to make an escape like him. He was always lying around or eating something. Was he comfortable with this miserable life?

Orochi was too busy pondering to see Revui's leg reel back kick towards him. He jumped from the impact, limping a few steps away before spinning round with a scowl. What the hell? You got a death wish or something?!

Sound erupted from him a few times, not that Revui paid attention to the value of the words or their meanings, not until the boy spurned physical contact and limped a safe distance from his reach. The boy hadn't fought him for the bird (which was pathetic), and he chose flight instead of fight (which was disappointing); so to his words Revui grunted, letting his probing hind foot relax against the dirt.

He licked his lips, savouring the taste of the bird after-the-fact, but kept his eyes on his pit-mate. You weren't eating it. He commented obtusely. They waste energy to hunt. We eat, we heal. Then, we hunt them. It was a simple plan, outlined in a single low rumbling breath. Revui was confident in himself and it showed by the way he nonchalantly began to pick the gristle from between his canines, indifferent.

He grunted at the flat retort. The bird was no concern of his anymore, the past was the past and all that. All he wanted to do was give the guy a good beating. Funny how he had gone this long without biting him at least once.

His ears slicked back and shot forward just as he finished speaking. Hunt them? What was that supposed to mean? Eat them? No, he couldn't be that stupid. Orochi sat down again. His rage had subsided, now it was replaced with genuine curiosity.

Revui was typically quite literal. He did not like words because he could not always understand their varied meanings and disliked being percieved as slow or stupid, although that would be a fair assessment of him. His statement was met by confusion and a sense of unease that rolled through the boy's face. He sneered, dragged his tongue across his teeth, amused by the implication he had not intended. But it wasn't the worst thought to him either.

Yes. Hunt, kill. They work to feed us and it weakens them. He explained as best he could, but did not want to waste breath by repeating himself. Relax. Eat. Heal. We will escape, then they will die. So he was complacent with his situation, confident in himself even now.

It took time for the statement to process. Hunt, kill. The promise of bloodshed no doubt excites him. Bursting from this hell hole and seeking retribution was something the boy craved from the moment Valour set his teeth on his nape. How wonderful it would be to see him crumble beneath him!

But kill. Die. What strong words those were. Long ago Orochi would have thrown them at his enemies without a second thought. He was unaware of what they truly meant. Dual-toned eyes met the ones of his cell mate. Had he killed before? Did he know what blood-stained paws felt like? It turned the fur to needles. And if he did, whos life did he end? Were they awful vermin like the Nightwalkers or were they family?

Orochi swallowed hard. His eyes leaped from one place to the other. His captors were nothing like his father. They hurt him so they deserved death! But he hurt you too... No! he answered sharply, then fell silent for a moment. They're a bunch of bastards. They should die now. No more waiting, they should seek revenge as soon as possible.

The boy is impatient and so is Revui, but he contains himself, layers himself with stoicism and well-earned confidence, which is why Orochi's hasty words are met with a lightly derisive snort. They will be free eventually; they will be weaker for the scraps they have been given, but if they remain tenacious and sharp-witted then there will be no more surprises. Revui wants to emerge from the pit as soon as he is able, like rising from the dead. He wants to find the wolves who beat him down and cause them to fear for their lives and break their legs, strip them of mobility and agency and eventually, all life. In his mind his actions would be justified: they had injured him and they deserved death for harming a prince of the neighbouring mountain.

But the boy - what could empower him to act? He was smaller, younger, and his leg was not as damaged. Revui thought, maybe he should contain this boy, teach him somehow. So that when they rose from the dusty pit they would do so together. Are you a warrior? He almost grumbled as he asked, voice rough and more than a little skeptical, Can you cut, bite, kill, even those three times your size? The beasts here are big. Not many children your size for practice. It was a lot of speech for him and soon he quieted, but for an instant he had a vein of patience and the look of his sister Hydra, studying the boy, making up his mind slowly.

He was so tired of being questioned all the time. First the beast, then Minori, now Revui too? He seethed in the spot. If only he knew of all the wolves he'd fought, he wouldn't dare ask him such a questions. Strangers, enemies, family. Hell he took on the god damn world. Of course he was a warrior! He was tired of having to prove that again and again. 

Rather than defending himself with a firey tongue as usual, he was silent. Those past battles and Revui's words were being mulled over. In that orchard he was thrown to the wayside, in those wetlands he was crushed underneath reality's paw. Abandoned by a mother, hated by his father. Left to wander helplessly in this world. All those losses led him into this pit. He was no warrior. 

Orochi bit his cheek until it bled. His head whipped from side to side, he dug into the earth until finally he gave up. His ears drooped, his eyes dropped to the floor, and he sighed. How am I gonna get any stronger then?

He had not meant to dissuade, but it appeared as if his words had some ill effect he had not counted on. That fouled the moment somewhat and further convinced Revui that words were difficult things, strange magical things, of which he could not rightly utilize. The boy seemed to shrink away from him and glower at the dirt, even look to the leviathan as if he would rise up and strike; surely he had wounded the boy's pride to some degree, which would have warranted the snapping of teeth? But that did not transpire; the boy sounded defeated as he spoke, giving up - proving to Revui in that moment what he worried: that this child was not a warrior but a victim.

How am I gonna get any stronger then? He asked with his eyes averted.
Revui was silent for a long minute. He did not think much; or if he did, it was slow going. His mind was often like molasses, you see. But when he finally spoke again it was with the same confidence as before: Me. I will train you. I will feed you my share, and you will heal. The boy was a spitfire in temperament; by comparison Revui was stoic like an immovable mountain. He had made up his mind on this. If he could learn to redirect the boy's ire adequately then he would survive. He was smaller too, and could perhaps be lifted free if they worked together.

You will become strong. Then you will escape - I will get you out.

There was a long pause after the question, it was discouraging. Orochi examined his face, looking for a twitch, a sigh, anything to indicate he was going to say something. His brow furrowed for a split second. The silence was clear. No matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried, the dragon would always be beaten by the world. His features then dropped into a sort of frown and he was tempted to turn, but Revui's sudden answer kept him rooted to the spot.

Train him? He has never been trained before. Takara didn't, she was too soft at heart. Minori hasn't, he wouldn't let her. And his father, well, he had a feeling he would never have been willing. This chance that was given to him sparked a new flame in him. Dull at first, but perhaps it may grow in time. Orochi looked into Revui's eyes and uttered, Ok... He blinked before straightening himself out. Yeah. I'll train, I'll get stronger. And then— he glanced up at the rim of the pit, —they'll get what they deserve.