Haunted Wood Hosts of the Air

For @Abaddon :D

Purpose. It was something the young boy lacked in life. With never knowing his father and now losing his mother at such a young age, he never did get the bonding he so desperately required to become a functioning member of the Wilderness. Whilst his siblings were off doing who knew what, clearly not bothered by the almighty not being there, Death kept to his own. He observed the world from a distance, feeling life creep by beside him as it went on without the boy. The feelings were deep for a kid his age, but he wasn't quite a regular kid. Something was off about him, though everything he did came to him as breathing did to others. No one was there to tell him what was right or wrong.

As he padded along the outskirts of their territory, he thought of how to escape the neutrality of his monochromatic days.

Thank you for starting!! <3

Despite his last encounter with Valour, Abaddon still skulked around the borders of his pack every so often. Stalking them from the mist they oh so loved to live within and using it to his pale advantage. He didn't stick out very much in a place like this and so, so long as he kept his scent as minimal around here as possible and didn't get too close, he slid under the radar with still much caution. 

He didn't know what he was waiting for... but he was waiting for something. Valour thought he was such a big man, a dangerous man, and Abaddon was hell-bent on showing Valour and his little group that they were not untouchable. That Abaddon was also the son of Vengeance and that his blood was just as sickly as any other of his lineage. 

But how?

And there it was. A how. One of the little runts that wandered at the border, unwatched by any in the fog from the looks of it as Abaddon watched a distance himself for a while... No one came. No one spoke to the boy and the boy didn't talk to anyone either. Feeling safe enough to approach, Abaddon made his move. 

Does the outside world interest you? He spoke calmly, letting that charisma shine through to hide his intentions for now.

Every once in a while, the boy looked behind him. No one was following him. It wouldn't surprise him if half the pack didn't even know who he was. The boy was not interested in fighting, nor claiming a throne he would be killed for anyway. Death was perhaps the most peaceful of their kind, simply because he felt like it didn't matter to him. Being loved and loving in return were foreign concepts. Perhaps he was completely without emotion, but then what was this pit in his stomach that begged for some kind of relief? He knew hunger, and it wasn't this. How come nothing satisfied him?

Then the shapes of the mist morphed into the shape of another, dark and sinister eyes peering at him from a distance. For the first time in his life, his heart pounded just a little quicker. The apparition spoke, and he was intending to reply. He looked around just once more, to see if anyone came for him. Did he want them to? He honestly couldn't say.

No, but you do. He answered in a monotone fashion, voice hoarse from his life in silence.

Abaddon's eyes followed those of the youngster as he took looked behind the dark boy to see if anyone would come rushing out now that Abaddon had made his move. If they were watching, they would certainly come out now. But no one came. The warm and cold stare returned onto the boy as they both confirmed the lack of Nightwalkers coming to get the boy. Poor thing. 

Oh? And what about me has you intrigued? The boy sounded dull, but that didn't make him boring to the vampire. Not at all. Abaddon still wanted to snatch this boy away. For a few days, a month maybe, some time whatever length it was was irrelevant. Should he tell the boy that he too interested the pale man? Or was that too creepy to admit just yet... too creepy, Abaddon has decided.

For now he would remain standing, casually, relaxed even - not wanting to sit down or even lay down to come to the boy's height should someone still come bursting out of the woods to apprehend the possible threat to their youth.

Or perhaps he was the lucky one, being able to escape the barely-life he was given here. All the Nightwalkers did was beat each other up for a chance to keep the top spot for more than a moon or so. It wasn't like this concept flew over the boy's head, he was far too observant not to have noticed. This meeting with the stranger of the mist was as close to a conversation he had ever gotten, which meant a great deal to the youngster.

You look tired. He answered bluntly. I'm tired too. He added with an understanding nod, as if he was some kind of little therapist. He tipped his head in curiosity as he peered real hard at the bloodied ghost. He wasn't quite sure what he was looking for, but even the apparition's presence was enough to soothe his nerves. He was so big in comparison to the little Death, even though he'd one day be about the same size or even surpass him. Was this what dads were supposed to look like?

Tired? What a strange answer to the question. The fact that the casper looked tired was intriguing to the boy, was interesting to the vamp now! What kind of kids are they raising here? As if Abaddon could do any better with children, heck, they'd probably grow up to be just as messed up if not more so under his care - but he wasn't going around putting babies into women expecting a family.

What are you tired of? He inquired further, inching closer to the boy with a calm stride, inviting, with no ill-will as he did not have anything against the boy. He was simply curious. Pressing the boundaries to see how far he could go, would he even be willing to come with the vampire without a struggle in the end? The thought made him smile inwardly. You're still so young, barely fresh out of your mother, how could you be tired already? Putting on a sympathetic tone, he tried to slide up next to the boy. To drape a paw across his back if the dark one would allow him to.

Though the word "everything" would have summed up his grievances with the world quite simply, he felt like the stranger wanted more out of him. His family, his own blood, had abandoned him. They'd left him in some place to die, where he would only know war. His siblings barely noticed him, the others didn't seem to care. He had grown apathetic defensively; if they didn't care, why should he? Death, or "Almight" which he liked better, was an intelligent soul in a broken frame, never to be put on a wall.

He sat, quietly, as the ghost approached to touch him. Only in his infancy, when his mother had still been around, had he felt the warm touch of another. He blinked at this revelation, the slightest hint of something warm behind his cold stare. They say my father is dead. He told with little to no emotion. And my mother hasn't come to fetch me. Not that he had had a strong connection with the woman. It's like I'm not even here. Not really. All was told in a croaky, monotone voice. He truly felt nothing thinking about this, other than exhaustion. He couldn't miss what he never had, and he felt no anger towards the woman that had granted him this suffocating existence.

Dead you say? Was it possible that they were related? Someone did tell the vampire prince that  the old man had a few pups this year before biting the dust. Was this little guy one of them? My father died too recently. Maybe he could use this as leverage, but first, he had to confirm they were siblings... even if not, he had another plan. To use their "mourning" or a lack of family of sorts to bring the pup under his wing and take him from here without a struggle.

Though it really didn't seem like he would struggle at all even now. But, to strengthen their bond, he continued anyway.

Who was your dad? Do you even know? For now, he would imagine the name or description to come was a stranger, a nobody to Abaddon - but how amazing would that be if they were related after all... He could barely stop himself from grinning.

We can close this soon! Maybe only a couple more posts? Sorry it's taken forever! At least this post was one week and not two LOL

Well yeah, of course he wouldn't be the only one without a dad. It wasn't something rare, for one's father to die. He didn't know how old his father was, or what exactly had take his life in the end, but he did know that death was all around them. It wasn't for nothing that they had called him that. The dragon-flies he'd hunted with his brother, the animals they had for dinner, the ants they stepped on... But then, why did he feel a connection to the ghostly man that had also had his father pass away?

I think they called him "Ven Fench"... no, more like "Vengeance". He answered, having little to no reference for the word nor its meaning. He had heard mother and the other nightwalkers mention their former leader... He was probably pathetic if he had lost his crown and his life so soon after spawning him.

Every fibre of his being felt like it was being lifted off the ground as the boy tried to find the word, the name, that his father was called. Got cha! He thought. As if this little bit of information was all he needed to make this his own personal victory. Putting on a mourning facade, letting his face drop a little in probably a more dramatic way than he would have liked, but he was excited. How could he not get a little too much into the role?

I suppose you can call me 'big brother' huh. His head fell to one side so he can gaze down at the boy with both of his hot and cold orbs. My name is Abaddon, Vengeance was my father too - but I didn't spend much time with him either. A deadbeat for one boy, and just plain dead for another. Seemed the bastard could never just be there for any of his spawns no matter the situation. Perhaps it was fitting. 

Now was a better time than ever to pop that singular question. Do you want to leave this place?

His brows raised in surprise as his eyes sought the face of his supposed brother, hoping to see a joking smirk or what-have-you. But no. The ghost seemed entirely serious in his statements. Death had no reason to doubt this information - hoped it to really be true, in a way. He averted his gaze then, staring at the nothingness that lay out of the reaches of his territory. He only now noticed that Abaddon smelt different from those he knew. He liked it.

Big brother. I like that. She said, a little softer than he did normally. They called me Death. I don't like it much. It's not a good thing. He introduced himself, probably for the first time. He suddenly regretted not lying outright about his name. He didn't want his cool big brother to call him Death at all.

He looked to Abaddon again as he posed a question. The little brat was quick to answer; Very much.

It grows on you. He offered as reassuringly as he could. I may as well be called 'Doom', but, once you cross over you are your own man. Call yourself whatever you want. Once the boy accepted his offer, the pale prince of nothing smiled and got up from his perch. Ready to depart before anyone came along to disrupt them now. 

Come on, let's get out of here. The boy was eager, the quick answer was proof enough to that. Abaddon waited only long enough for the brat to get up and start moving, and just as he did, the man was off again - with a new companion yet again. How long would this one last for? Would their blood ties make their bond stronger or would he fade like all the rest?

His own man... really? He looked to Abaddon, something in his presence gave the boy comfort, and his eyes shined with a newfound passion. He wasn't much a man yet, but neither was he a defenseless boy, waiting for his mommy to come get him. The woman was not there for him, he did not feel inclined to be there for her upon her return. If she ever did...

Almight. You can call me that. He said, before getting up and stretching his still pretty lanky limbs. The size of his paws gave away just how massive the boy would become, but for now he was just a kid. A kid that was very happy to have a big brother now that could take him away from the nightwalkers. They didn't care and hadn't cared about him all his life, he knew that nobody would miss him. He would follow Abaddon to wherever the ghost wanted to take him.