Phantom Hollow Was hypnotized by a strange delight

He was one of the most fearsome sights another could lay eyes on. Massive, over three feet from paw base to ear tip, and honed with muscles that begged to be set free from restraining chains of calm posture. He was Slade, the Sire of Shadows, and The Nightmare King in the flesh, fur and fang. A decadent swell of heavy dark curtainous ruff hung with a near illusive sheen, like that of a cape, fit well and tailors for his ominous being. A body of a brute, mind of a cunning ruler, and appearance of the epitome of Hell's hound brigade, Slade stood tall over the white and black patched wolfess before him, the fae he had sent Cry after.

It was disappointing her news she had brought to him, though he was pleased she had made herself home within the Bypass. She had gotten on with Cry, though their relationship was more of brother and sister love than the ill fate the Shadow Sire had predicted for the two. After all, it was spring. Wolves were meant to be in heat, or even laying birth well across this season's spanse, so he thought his former protige would succumb to the instincts.
Cry denied him the ecstacy of being correct.

Before Slade was the Leila, the delicate girl who had elaborated and brought to 'Mr. X' the details of her time within the pack. A wolf was pregnate, and to the adopted niece it was a strange but kind the the Alphess of her pack did to allow someone other than the Alphas to produce litter. In this revalation, Slade frowned, his disapproval ungilded and pure, as he had no reason to hide his emotions form someone who shared hers just as openly. She was a soft spot on his hardened armor, a chink in his chainmail.
Even more visible of this weakness, was how he spoke to her, the usual dangerous timbre of his baritones nowhere to be found, instead a soft and silken tone of a caring and chiding father was heart.

"I do not approve of this pack for you, Leila. Cry had not given me such fruit when I asked him of his affairs within the pack, let alone what the pack was made of. I simply was given that he now had a home, and with such little attachment form him, I thought it was he who would bring them ruin. It seems the Alphess herself is in the limelight for failure."

His voice was not molded to be betweent hte two of them, as who would venture within the darkness of this place with no protection? Who would bide their time in this menace of a home? Leila was immune to the terror inflicted on the mind, as she visited Slade when she needed to, and had met quite the nice friend group in these caverous woods. She could navigate with ease through the tormenting trees. This place was Slade's home, as he explored it for years, both within his time of being a Dark Brother of Meldresi's coven, and his time of being without her amtheyst gaze. He missed her, and even without visiting the Brotherhood, he grieved her departure, to this day. His current state however, in his weakness, he hadn't fixed the loudness of his voice to be quiet, and anyone who passed through the woods nearby was apt to not only hear them, but to even come to join in.