Cedar Sweep i was everywhere, like a god, like a virus

 

In the days that followed his mother's passing Ceallach had been....off. Sure, he was trying to be helpful to his Täti as she neared whelping but the boy barely spoke. He spent most of his time with Eirlys, and the only reason he had been even willing to leave her side was for the sake of going with Arturo today. Scouting their pathway would not only help Ceallach to prepare for leaving the Strath but it would also do well for not only Hemlock but his little siblings. He gave a breathy sigh, eyes fluttering for a moment as he followed a pace or so behind his father. They were nearing the same size, and it was astounding to him to realize that he had grown that much. 

His brow knitted in deep concentration, the inky mask on his face only masking some of the shifts as they happened. Like ripples - the stone being his mother's death, and not having her had loosened some of the control that he'd felt he had. Unknown to him his father faced similar struggles, although when Arturo stopped abruptly Ceallach felt his fur bristle and his hackles raise. He hit the marker a moment after Arturo did and a snarl surprisingly formidable from the child sounded in the air. What he understood was that Chusi could have seen them - that she might even have been around, and she hadn't. THere wasn't the scent of a struggle or blood or anyone else nearby that could have suggested it wasn't a choice. 

Where the demon his father allowed in had a name, had a personality, had a voice what lurked inside Ceallach was different. It was pure rage, tangled and breathing in hatred only to spew out destruction. The boy scarcely heard the bitter laughter of his father, launching himself at the nearest tree to cut his claws into it. To carve his fury, to make it known, an outburst stronger than he'd had so far.