Blackwater Islands let my bones be split apart

Alduin’s bloody gaze never leaves the others eyes, he even raises his head some — both signs of his own need for dominance over the over. Usually Alduin doesn’t mince words — he’s not good at that — but he has a few things to say to this boy.

Plus, he sees the way he looks back to the brindled beast. It seems their hatred is mutual. Good. Alduin doesn’t shield his hatred one bit, rather it’s easily conveyed in his eyes like an upcoming storm. The way Alduin desires to rip into his flesh is irreparable. Nothing would save him from his fate below the hellhound — metaphorically and physically. For Alduin believes he is above him, not matter the rank he holds. 

So when he speaks and asks the brindled boy what he wants he’d huff out a breath through his nose. “I want to get something very clear with you.” He’d say, low and dangerously.

So the cursed boy would slink towards him, nothing but hatred and the lust for blood reflecting in those dark eyes. If allowed, and if the other doesn’t back down, he would come to stand right in front of him. Probably too close for comfort.

He’d stare him dead in the eyes then. “You are below me in every way, no matter your rank.” Comes that rasping rumble. His words are intentionally hateful, tone just as much so as well. He wants to see how easy it is to piss him off. “The Shadow sees it too.” He knows that’d be a sore spot. And then ever so slowly, he says his next words. “You don’t have a chance.”