Emberflame Ridge But meanwhile…

Alduin knows he’s in trouble the second his brother sets those two-toned eyes on him. Quick as striking lightening, his brothers mood seems to go down the toilet. Still, Alduin’s him with a level stare that practically says ‘Go ahead, ask your questions’.

He’s getting up quickly and striding over to the dark prince and ask away he does. His brothers knows him though. He knows the way Alduin yearns for blood. He knows of his sickness and the demons that plague his mind at almost every hour of the day. Still, he is more patient with him than Alduin would expect him to be (or most of the time he is).

So when Tulok speaks and asks his questions Alduin keeps his usual dark expression. 

“I was.” Is all he says at first. At the second question he hums low in contemplation. “She’s probably dead.” He says then voice devoid of any real emotion, but continues anyway if only to make sure his brother doesn’t worry as much (which probably won’t help). “I covered my scent as well as her own. So unless she lives, nothing will come of it.”

The hellhound doesn’t hold a shred of pity in his words or expression. He needed the blood. He needed the sacrifice. It’s like a drug and he’s fucking addicted.