Phantom Hollow A Shadow's Mirror

The shadow prince strode through the once familiar woods, the ominous sounds not deterring him from the goal. He had been tracking his uncle for quite some time, and despite the size from of the beast, the massive wolf was as elusive as his name's sake. Slade Nightmare, or "The Nightmare King" as he was donned from the page he led ages ago, was just as gone as sanity, in these lands. The wolf had a tendency to disappear when he didn't desire to be found, but Cry was one of his trainees. Of course he was going to come scross signs that others were unaware of. Especially the feeling of someone else stalking you from your left, when truly, they were on your right.

"I know you are near. Show yourself."

Icy blues scanned the reclusive lands, light mist rising as the dew that was land based condensed, and then hit hot air, fogging the lower half of the dank forest with secrecy.

Damn.
Perhaps he was geting dusty in his trade.

Slade pulled his form from the Void, his abyss of a form making its way to the smaller wolf. Cry had caught him in his game, hide and seek, and of course the younger spawn had expected such. His nephew, on he personally had a paw in raising to be the calculated killer he was to that day.

"Aye, you've slain my illusion, boy. What do you seek now?"

His silver tongue paused its song as he stalked to the front of his awaiting company. Those familiar emberous golds locked onto the frosty azures he had been trying since the boys unfortunate come-up, to melt, or at least shatter. To leave a single crack in the ire of those winter irises would give him a bit more peace than he deserved, to die with knowing he had broken the unbreakable newphew of his.

"I see you've found shelter," his song tipsied, dancing around the dark lupines in a soft embrace. "How long before they lay before you, Cry? I'd be generous if I gave it a week. "  The molten visage on his face intensified as he visualized a day where the youth would collapse packs, member after member, gullets shredded to nothing but a pool of flesh and gnarled bones, eviscerated corpses mangled and left to rot on an emptying battlefield.

'ello!

---

the Informer seemed to have come across a rather interesting meeting. Abraxas had taken to wandering, to watching, perfecting the art of hiding noiselessly in the shadows, merely a ripple in the darkness. blue optics stared from a distance as he watched, gaze that of a dead thing. weight was balanced lightly on his paws, prepared to move at any moment on the off chance he should be noticed. many things had he observed in his little wanderings, however, this seemed the most promising conversation he had seen yet. 

his maw dipped to scent the air, carefully, yet he did not scent anything that he knew. perhaps it would be wise to travel the wilds, to fill himself with knowledge that he could use against others; or perhaps for the Brotherhood. a later task, surely, for now this occupied his attention.

~Waves~

"Im not here for anything, other than a family visit. Making sure you're alright, and stuff. "

It was a lie, and the moment it flew out of his mouth, he seethed at it. His intentions were made obvious through the timelapse of him not bothering to contact the massive black wolf since last time he needed a favor, a bloody favor that he knew his uncle would have no issue with handling.

He bit his tongue as he clenched his jaws together. This was a painful thing, somehting as minute as asking family for information. But it had to be done, as he was a pack wolf now, and the pack he resided in needed what he was searching for; a healer. He had come across the knowledge that none of the others were suited for such a daunting task, so to ensure the prosperity, he had come to the only source he knew had the inside on these matters.

"I'm not here for a hit, nor do I plan on killing. It wasn't why I joined a pack, Slade."

At the lie, Slade took to shaking his massive crown disappointedly, thick mane flowing with the movement. He wasn't really disappointed, but 'all the more to make you feel, my dear' was at work here. He had a mild flair for dramatics, and the King murmurred to his less-built and cold eyed mirror.

"Shame, Cry, I thought we would be over debauchary at this point in our relationship."

Slade canted his head, void shaded ears facing the youth as he studied the words. Cry was still attemping to deny his might, it seemed. Refusing to unfurl the wrath Slade had worked to build in his muscles, his heart, his loins. He was a prize, this boy, and it angered Slade a degree that he refused to atleast take to it. Hell, it angred himself that he wasn't able to do the same, but who said he wasn't allowed to be a hypocrite?

The silken voice slid over the explanation the dark prince gave, instead chosing to weave around the older subject.

"What is it you are searching for this time, boy."

the boy settled himself more firmly upon his haunches, though his interest was peaked by the older wolf, the one called Slade. Surely the Dark Mistress would be pleased would he bring home with him another, one that could oppose Damien, as the tensions steadily rose, so would they need more supporters. he certain seemed the type for the woods, the boy considered with the slightest grin tampering with his muzzle, soon fading away to nothing. he would wait, and watch, and make his presence known when it would benefit him most to do so.

'A healer,', he stated mentally. Of course the giant couldn't hear him, but it was solely because Cry was going through every single option he believed was necessary for the moment. Every precaution. Every countermeasure. What harm could come out of asking his uncle for favors? Nothing much, as Slade could not smell a pack scent on the wolf now, his scent his, and his alone.

"A healer."

Cry watched the face of the sly brute before him, the gems studying for any facial indication that he was in the wrong for such an act. As much as he wasn't supposed to, Cry trusted Slade. His uncle had proven time and time again he was their for the young Prince, sometimes without him even knowing it. Cry had been brutally assailed by a bear once, the crisscross patchwork of scars lamenating his back the results of the ursine's merciless claws. He was young, naive.

Last sight he had come to know was the sight of his uncle rising, soaring through the air as some wrathful angel of death would and taking that bear, head on. Through the raspy snarls of the bears roars and the equally as ferious responses from his uncle, Cry had grasped 'Run', and after hobbling to his fours, he had escaped the disaster, never looking back. Years later, he had healed, and here he was.
He had never even said 'Thank you'.

"Do you know any free roamers?"

The Nightmare King was silent.
How badly was this need for the healer? And why would he simply hand over his secrets to someone who didn't desire to be raised in the way royalty should? What would he get for this?Another lost sight as they walked away with more of something that was once his?

Slade's volcanic irises brewed Hell in their depths, and back to his fours he rose, considering simply walking away and never returning to this ungrateful whelp.

Deeply, baritones etched a coming storm to the dark boy before him.

"You try my kindness, Cry. My teachings have been wasted on you, I see this now. But you have mocked me, coming to take, and never to give. This is the second time you have invoked such message, and I do not allow third strikes."

the boy rose, slowly, languidly, gaze on the male, Slade. a fight had the potential to erupt, and he would not interfere; merely judge, and then act accordingly. he suspected that the male would prove to be a more than effective fight, but without evidence, he would not waste his time on the male before him. dead blue eye watched, waited, prepared to move at any point should the need arise.

Cry's ears, though the flashed to face behind him, did not flatten. He would not be deterred. Nor would he give Slade the pleasure of seeing his 'failed' prodigy suffer intimidation. He was better than that, and both he and the Nightmare King knew such.

"What is it you would have me do, Slade?"

Simple. To the point. If Slade was incapable of being pleased by any other means, then he would seek out a healer on his own. Otherwise, this meeting was both the waste of time, and the shatter of an allied tie.

"What do you want?"

The snake of a Sire latched quick the appeasement, but he only made note of it. To show such immediate desires were below him, at this age. The youth had no idea exactly how far it would take go, simply to please him.
Yet out of good grace, he kept his desires light.

"I will give you a healer. She is a lost soul, left behind by her pack as her lack of passion in fighting has marked her 'weak' by those who once called her 'Pack sister'. She is a white girl, clad in ivory pale and pure, though upon her back rests a saddle of coal, and against her face, a mask of twin shadows. She is dainty despite her size, once meant to have the form of a big boned valkyrie, but only just a flower. A delicate fae flower, unmated, and childless."

Slade's maw that once threatened a snarl from depths unknown slowly slid into something much worse...and even more secretive.

"Call me mad, rave on my lunacy, but it will be you who will pluck the petals from this flower, and rob her of her innocence. It will be you, Cry, who will bring ruin to what this girl once was. I fate it, and my mark is branded on these words. Heed them, and you will see just how useless it was for you to leave my side."

Slade turned to leave, near one hundred percent sure his 'good deed' was done for the day, his mighty form already being welcomed back into the unreal touch of the shadows.

he will continue to watch, waiting, in the shadows, at the odd exchange. it might provide him with information...information he can use to his benefit. thus the Raven sits, patiently, completely unmoving, and watches.

Cold gems returned to their wintery ire, resound in their own abraisiveness. His uncle was off his rocker. Had to be. Either that, or he forgot that Cry was not interested in shallow things like sex, or even a mate. Love was garbage,  and why rear your own children when you could just not? It was an expendable thing, children. Mate. Useless for someone as cold as he.

"Whatever." A response more felt than spoken.

And with that, the shadow prince sidappeared back into the forest, navigating with mastery through the brambles of this forest. Back into the light. He had to find her. The pack needed her.
He did not.


[Fin]