Blackfeather Woods It's not nice to stare, really
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#1
The child was staring.

Night had long ago thrown it's shawl of shadow over the land, and night-creatures lingered outside, away from the protectiveness of the Glenn but close enough to instill fear in a normal child by ways of their subtle sounds. However, Abraxas, youngest of his siblings, was anything but a normal child. Like some possessed, unearthly creature, he gazed with unblemished blue eyes into the face of his mother, but inches away from her great face, still in slumber. 

He suddenly found great interest in the massive face, having woken but minutes ago and seeing it now by the moon's glow that seeped into the den. Night was hardly adequate lighting to stare into one's face, but with his annoying siblings finally still, he had taken the chance to thoroughly inspect big-blob, and found her giant face very interesting.
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#2
The mother woke abruptly, letting loose a frightened yelp as she was met face to face with a child of her own; staring into her eyes as if to search her soul. She had tensed, straightened up as she eyed the boy from her higher position. His eyes followed her as she moved, and she could not shake his gaze but hold it until her eyes burned with the lack of relief. This was the youngest, Abraxas. An odd boy, she had come to gather. He had not made much noise, besides the ear splitting screech at his birth. Instead, she noticed how he watched, observing his brothers and sister as they went about their own activities. His traits did not come from her, she was sure. Perhaps, Kove. Yet, nothing could truly explain the peculiarities of the youngest boy. "Strange, aren't you?" Her brow raised as if to question him. 

"No matter, it runs in the family," She sighed as she settled down again. Though her eyes did not move from the boy, carefully observing his own from her peripherals. She could feel his gaze on her own, and found she could not settle back to sleep with him simply watching her every movement. Instead, she faced away, hoping he would eventually find slumber and leave her in peace. Little did she know, this would not be happening any time soon.
the only way to keep your people loyal is
to make certain they fear you more than they do the enemy
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#3
Her optics turned to colour with a yelp, lid's sliding back to reveal eyes that greatly interested the boy. At her startled reaction, he himself did little but to take an uneasy step back, but retained his silence. Abraxas kept his gaze firmly fixed on her beautifully coloured optics, broken only when she shifted and settled. He found he liked this, examining the food-blob more thoroughly without the interrupting of his annoying small blob companions. She was much like one of his fellow blobs, but infinitely larger and a built in a different manner. He found her's intriguing as he had the outside, his blob companions upon first discover, and the many other elements in his small world. 

She spoke, and though he understood none of it, he replied to the noises with some of his own, a rare feat for the boy. "Efla blo nah" he said, quiet and oddly solemn, no trace of happiness on his face as he babbled. It was only a few moments after his short, meaningless speech that he smiled, gaze having not moved from his mother as his worm of a tail wagged.
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#4
Her gaze returned to the boy as he muttered incoherent words, a light smile within his features. She could not deny, her heart warmed at the sight. This was her child, the very one she had carried for so long, and now he was stalking her. The pleasentaries of parenting were quite appealing to her. Playing along, her eyes narrowed. "What is that supposed to mean?" She knew he did not understand a word, yet this was the most exciting the boy had been since birth and she was not ready to give up the moment for useless slumber. 

She pondered, this was about the age they began to form words, she was almost sure. Perhaps, there would be no harm in attemptiing a few to get their footing. "Can you say.. Mother? Ma?" Atshen had done so once before, even if it was by accident; she was sure the youngest would get it too. Eventually.
the only way to keep your people loyal is
to make certain they fear you more than they do the enemy
burn.
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#5
His mother spoke, and as if to replicate the way her massive maw opened and closed, he opened his own as wide as he could, staring at her the whole time. When she finished her rumbling noise, his mouth shut like a trap, and yet, when she begun again, he opened his maw again, staring at her all the while. He did not know why he did this, mirroring her actions in such an unsettling way, perhaps it was his attempt to learn, what, no one knew. 

He did not speak again, would not for quite some time. He would appear to have been stunted, not growing as the other might, but little did those around him know, he was growing and learning rapidly, simply remaining silent as per his selective mutism. She approached his mother, reaching out a tentative paw to touch her simply massive face as he sat a little closer. she interested him, not to the point of obsession, but simply because she was the most interesting thing in his little world at the moment.
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#6
The child followed her actions, the way her mouth moved; opening and closing. Her eyebrow marginally raised, in the slightest bit creeped out but also quite honored, that her child should chose her to domestically stalk. Not Kove, but her. It was the kind of thing built for the Brotherhood and for that, she was quite proud of the little guy for such an early start. Perhaps, that was what she told herself to ignore the fact she had birthed an unstable child, none would know.

"C'mere," She indicated to her outstreched paws, deciding this would be the best time to administer a tongue bath. The children were awfult dirty 90% of the time, and she would not have dirty little children. They were strange enough.
the only way to keep your people loyal is
to make certain they fear you more than they do the enemy
burn.
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#7
No.
He would not come. He did not like the tongue that swept over him, cleaning him. He recognised her actions as a prelude that was the torture of bath, and he did not approach. He would escape. He made no movement, his gaze stayed on her, but after a moment of tense motionless silence, he moved, no toward her but toward the entrance, going as fast as his little legs would carry him, wanting to see what resided out there, in the world that was not the tiny one he had known for much of his life. He would have no bath.