Blackfeather Woods chaos is a ladder

The rage had consumed him suddenly. He had been in the midst of a meal when it had happened, his jaws already stained from the blackbird he was eating. All had been fine but then, in a split second, the Spiderling’s world had flipped upside down. Something nasty had suddenly sparked within his belly as he had locked eyes with the corpse. Whatever it was, this something caused a snarl to drip from his lips. But this was only the beginning. The stormborn was just on the cusp of another breakdown.

“Heckin’ POOP,” he growled to himself as his anger crackled in the pit of his being. Soon enough, the rage was everything to him in that moment. All he knew was anger and all he could see was red. He wasn’t a stranger to these episodes, nor did he question them. He gave himself into them fully without another thought.

Digging into the kill, Atshen began to reach his forelimbs into the bird’s body in an attempt to pulverise everything in sight. Blood began to splatter across the Spirderling’s face as he went to work, all whilst muttering “mutilation… mutilation… mutilation…” as if he were a broken record.

She was not unknown to her children's psychedelic problems. Each one was just a bit off, just the slightest misaligned within their own minds, troubled as it were. However, it did not bother her in the slightest. In Abaraxas' stoic nature was an impenetrable force behind the very few words he spoke. In Atshen, she seen something quite dangerous, untameable even, however in the hands of the Brotherhood would do them better than good. She never did make any movements to calm the boy in his fits of rage, only when his own anger posed a threat to his own well being did she intervene, and as he mimicked a word she no doubt had let slip once or twice before, she sat back intent with curiosity. What a weapon he would become to be, if he did not destroy himself before that ever became a possibility.

Stepping through the clearing, the woman stepped behind her child to nose the back of his neck; affectionate of her eldest born. When she hoped the bird had become of less interest to the boy, she took it in her mouth and flung it beyond their vision; turning to lick the blood splatters from the child with ease and no question to his actions. By now, the Spiderlings had to know that there was little they could do to upset their mother, but to disappoint was worse a punishment than familial exile. Atshen's behavior was one he knew she tolerated and did not question, in fact, perhaps even ignorant to the qualities of the boy that would usual frighten the average wolf to the thoughts of later life with the eldest born. Or perhaps, she did not question his savage tendencies for the very fact it had originated within her; what ever the case, Nemesis hummed as she cleansed the boy of the result of his own personality, taking the time she needed to calm him down. “Now, where did you learn that word, hm?” The mother inquired, her voice serene in contrast to the boy below. 

His all-consuming rage did not notice the ginger touch from his mother, nor did it hear her gentle hum. Instead, it was red-- violet flashes that plagued his vision. He dug deeper, growling, as he demolished the piece of prey. Somehow, in the midst of it all, Nemesis was able to reach out to him with the question that she asked. Her presence cradled him suddenly as the anger simmered beneath his once-furious surface. With a bit of surprise about him, he turned his blazing eyes to look at her, finding himself wondering just when she had arrived.

Eventually, as the question truly struck him, he blinked as he fell expressionless. “Abraxas,” he lied easily, not quite remembering exactly where he had heard it. But, regardless, he seized every moment that he could to throw his younger sibling down under the bus.

super short but i don't wanna keep this waiting!

She fell silent as she nudged him to sit between her paws. The boy lied as little boys do, and the woman simply grunted softly as if acclimation to hs fib. “I should punish him, then?” She hummed as she preened him, curious to see how far his tale would go. For course the woman would not trust a word the boy spoke, they were her children after all.

He was soothed in his mother’s hold, the flame  was quelled for now. Tipping his head back, Atshen looked to his mother as she replied to his lie. To this, Atshen smiled. “You should kill him,” he offered, his tone hiding the excitement he help for this opportunity. He had high hopes that she as would do as he said.

She looked down to her child, expression unreadable. “Ah, but then I would be committing a crime against Mephala. I do not believe you wish to see your mother run from the pack,” She quipped, matter-of-factly. It did not concern her that her four-month-old son had just asked her to kill his brother, in fact, she had rather expected it. Since they were able, she had foreseen a rivalry between the two. The firstborn and the overachiever. Both made her proud, but it did not sedate their own demons from a vengeful bloodline. “Perhaps..” She lingered. “I will let you,” The dark woman met his molten orange eyes, ablaze. “That is, if you prove to me you can handle it first,” It was a trap, not an opportunity. She needed her children to grow up, to draw first blood in their youth so that they hay be stronger in adulthood. High hopes did she have for Atshen; Abraxas had already earned his title. She did not wish to spark further rivalry, but if she needed to, she would. The woman knew no bounds.

Atshen would never want his mother to flee and to her response, he shook his head quickly. Remaining silent despite his desires, he looked up to Nemesis with an uncharacteristic expression of worry, hoping that she didn’t think that he would want her to commit a crime against Mephala. But as he worried, Nemesis calmed such emotions. With his attention caught instantly, Atshen replied, “How do I prove myself?” He would do anything in his power to prove himself worthy of his brother’s death.

He was eager, and expressed it far greater than Abraxas. Abraxas had never asked her but had simply done. She could not decide which she preferred more. Something about the raven-haired boy nestled between her forepaws gave her a sense of authority, unlike Abraxas who seemed her equal in mind far greater than the rest of the brood. “Kill another of your age and bring me their head; then will I know you are capable,” She leant into his ear as if the whisper of a demon on his shoulder. And truly, she was. Atshen was entranced by his mother, less so than Abraxas but worthy-seeking all the same. She used it to her advantage, despite that her two prizes would follow her regardless. Astrid and Keelut were a different matter; tamer than she, as far as she had gathered. Regardless, she had high hopes for all four -- it was Atshen and Abraxas that she expected they conquer the world. And she knew, in their prime, they could perfectly well do it with the skills she provided.

"Kill another of your age and bring me their head; then will I know you're capable." 

He looked up, expressionless at first as he attempted to comprehend the quest that she had bestowed upon him. He realized the gravity of the situation suddenly but did not flinch from its impact. Instead, he looked up to Nemesis and nodded sternly. 

"I will not let you down," he said, his eyes ablaze as he vowed this to his mother.

“No, you won’t,”

She could only murmur as he marched away, and she could not help but to feel a little melancholy towards her actions. Never before had she been uncertain of her choices, but this was a dangerous game. One could not always safely pin her children against each other. She knew that Atshen would not stop, never cease to out-do his brother, but Abraxas, he was calculative. He would make his plans and wait to strike, as quiet as the wind but a fire within. Atshen was pretty much a maelstrom 24/7. So alike, so destructive, but so different. One would come out ontop, it was only a matter of who and when now.