Blackfeather Woods I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy

Just as he'd anticipated, the boy had followed him into the cave. His steps had been slow and cautious, but he'd followed nevertheless. Xan hadn't glanced back even once, having instead proceeded to move deeper into the cave, ears listening closely for the sound of footfalls. Never had they stopped, but the Inuit's had. The moment he'd noticed Seff creeping close in an attempt to slip passed him, he'd stopped and allowed for the younger male to move ahead. Seconds had ticked by and he still hadn't moved, peculiar gaze staring into the darkness.

Without warning, Xan had lunged forwards, aiming for the boy. Should he succeed with reaching him, he'd attempt to shove the younger to the ground and onto his side. If everything were to go as planned, and Seff hadn't scuttled away, the pallid boy would then pin him there against the ground, gaze unwavering, not a word to be spoken.