Blackwater Islands You go back there when you’re done

Set at sunset sometime after this thread!
Forward dated about a week as well.
Tagging @The Listener

The swim from the beach to the islands isn’t the worst, but Alduin catches himself smelling like the sea. Which isn’t ideal to him. The salt will curl his fur and leave it courser than it already is. Still, his options are low. Now he and his brother have a place to make their base of operations. The Shadow even said she’d help them despite not knowing what it is they’re here for. Which could’ve been a mistake on her part, but only time will tell if she actually decides to help or not.

Her requirements are easy enough, but this creed she speaks of. The druids too. There is so much mystery shrouded here. His hair prickles when he’d gotten to the island. It gives off the same unearthly vibes as the night witch herself. Yet he is strangely drawn to it just like he is to her. He wonders what it could be, but for some reason he has his suspicions. 

So, he moves along the beach and looks around, lowering his head to sniff plants and take in the scents of the beach beneath his paws. The same, ever present, aura hits him. His ghostly friend is back, but does he really ever leave?

Alduin, my young, cursed boy. Banesteppe calls to him from a distance.

The young wolf’s auds shift and he looks up where his head is drooping from his shoulders. He sees the alien form of the man sitting on a rock a few meters down.

Noticing the wolf’s attention, the creature beckons him over. Come to me, hellhound.

Alduin’s lips wrinkle slightly, his head still hanging from his shoulders. He huffs out a growling sigh and languidly pads over to the rock. Lifting his head some to glare wine red orbs up to the foreign, yet somehow familiar, face of the spirit. His weird appendages scoop up his chin and tilt his head up. Banesteppe’s expression is thoughtful, but Alduin can see the underlying anger. 

You’ve disobeyed me, pet. Comes the man’s husky voice. The hand moves to cup his trachea and Alduin’s ears shift to lie against his skull, knowing what’s about to come next. 

He squeezes. Alduin hacks and coughs at the pressure. To anyone watching it would seem as if he had something lodged in his throat, but otherwise the scene would seem normal. It is anything but though.

I told you to kill her. You are a reaper. Are you not? You are death. You will do as I say. His voice is a growling whisper, speaking through clenched teeth as his expression twists into full out rage.

Alduin growls, lips snarling up body growing taught with the urge to struggle. He can hardly breath. There’s a wetness to his nose now. Blood. It drips from his nose like a river. A dark tongue laps at the coppery substance and a new ire finds itself in his heart. Snapping out against the force that holds him, but catching nothing. Powerful jaws click together in his failed attempt. 

A few seconds pass like this until he’s being released, Banesteppe scoffs as he does so. As if Alduin deserved to be choked to death right on the spot. And he backs away hacking up a lung, dripping crimson into the pale sand at an alarming rate. His jaws hang open as he breathes heavily, head hung between his legs, he lets his nose pour blood beneath him. Only his eyes glare up to the entity like he could could kill him with one glance. 

We’ll see how long she lasts, Alduin. Do not disappoint me. He spits down to him and stands from the rock and disappears into thin air. 

The hellhound can only stand there. Victim of the ghostly abuse once more. When will it end? He wonders, but he knows his only escape is death. He’s been cursed after all.