Phantom Hollow They’re trying to find it in someone

Playing with fire or not, Alduin is usually not one for games. Not unless his more cynical nature decides to show its face and usually he has to be in quite a good mood for that to happen. Though, nowadays, he can’t classify or tell what mood he is in unless it is fiery hot anger that strikes his chest. It seems that and lust are the only things he feels now. Or at least the only things he can differentiate between the usual emotionless cuffs his mind has chained him in. He wonders where the key has gone, but he knows he lost it a long time ago.

Either way, the man seems humorous in the face of death himself. The hellhound will give him kudos for that — a man who seems just as fearless as he. A man who also has nothing to lose, for Alduin expects only one outcome in this life and it’s an early death. 

So even as he stares before dragging the doe to shore, he notices the laziness of the others eyes — the smirk that still paints a handsome face littered with scars just as much as the rest of his form. 

He looks down — ignores it — carries on with his task to have a decent meal. Probably the first he’s had in a few days despite endlessly killing, but only eating less than half of said kills. 

Then, as he drags her his voice rings out once more,

Good company then. Alduin allows a rush of air to fall from a wet nose — a noise that could be considered a humorless laugh. 

After, the large man moves forward, finally approaching. Alduin eyes him down the whole way with a massive head level with wide shoulders. Suddenly a thought strikes him — a memory. 

A memory of Sayf. 

His brows would furrow at the context in which the coy comes to mind. Until he allows his eyes to leave the other’s face and trail down a neck of full fur, then to a well muscled chest, and further to strong limbs. 

Ah, so it’s gonna be like that, huh?

He’s pulled from his distracting thoughts when the other male begins introducing himself. Flicking his eyes back up to his face the entirety of his introduction.

Dreven.

A man of many names but gives only one. Alduin can relate to that, but it is common to give all three names to different people he meets. He doesn’t like to be identified as easily. 

He hums again, finally dipping his head to inspect the doe for a good spot to rip into. 

“Malacath.” He supplies one of his names in a rasping voice. Eyes peer back up to him. “Tell me, have you made somewhere your home yet?” He asks it with veiled disinterest, but he thinks…thinks that perhaps he could use a man with nothing but his life to lose.