Wapun Meadow Spiders deserve life in prison.

After their initial meeting Glaucos took to keeping watch for @Illidan when he was awake, besotted by this new personality that had entered his life. He imagined his own world around him; images of the man sneaking to the rendezvous and stealing Glaucos from under Averna's nose, or spear-heading an investigation in to the disappearance of his true mother like some sort of back alley P.I.; scenarios that were fed by a certain level of distrust that Glaucos held for his caretakers, and the need to fill his empty days with something beyond the anxiety that was ever-present in his life. It served as a fun game to pass the time and distract him from his hunger.

So when the man did appear, offering to accompany Glaucos on a walk if he was willing, his life thus far was made. He was skeptical of the man's motives for the first leg of their journey which spiked at the territory limits, where the valley mouth opened on to meadow. At first he thought he was being led to the Big Rock; perhaps he had been sold out to Averna, brought here to face her cold wrath and sit for a lesson concerning the spirits.

Glaucos spent a few minutes circling the boulder that marked the entryway to the claim. He sniffed at the base of it, at the dirt marked by many redundant steps, and then tip-toed towards the line, crossing it with a few sharp yips, excited and afraid of repercussions, before finally wheeling around in search of his accomplice in crime.

the company of the young boy glaucos had been surprisingly easy to deal with.
 
after the gunslinger had crossed paths with the child for the first time, he had determined that the freckled youth was softer than many were at that age. illidan could remember raleska being fiery and difficult, sticking her nose in places that it didn’t belong. glaucos had seemed curious in a way that was not overwhelming. for some, this might not have seemed all that remarkable. some children were simply softer than others. for the ghost, it was a form of companionship that did not leave him feeling emptier after they had parted.
 
so, the two ventured out into the wilds. illidan moved significantly slower due to his injuries, but he did what he could to keep glaucos intrigued with his surroundings. once or twice, the dark figure of the child would stray from his side. the dark-hooded beast did not worry too much; he didn’t think that glaucos was too young to know when he should and shouldn’t wander.
 
at the boulder, illidan found a spot where he could lower himself to the earth and watch. his gaze followed the dark child as he roamed around and when glaucos seemed to have sniffed out his interests and turned back to his guardian, the ghost looked to him with a tired but soft expression.
 
“find anything interesting?”

Had he any wit at all perhaps his tongue would fly in response, but instead there was an owlish look upon his face. Innocent, more or less, and surprised to have any question levied his way. Having gone from one silent caretaker to the next (or at least near-silent more recently) sometimes Glaucos forgot that people could talk. It surprised him that anyone would ask anything of him, bastard and layabout that he was.

Mother Averna, he hastened to say, answering honestly. Her scent was the strongest beside those of the leadership, then there was the herb-strong Evien (though he did not know their name). Glaucos reacted to the speaking of the ghost's name as if she were there with them, non-corporeal, watching and judging. He looked around with a clumsy sweep of his head; ears splaying, slanting back, resetting.

Where we goin'? He asked the older man, slurring his words somewhat as he rarely had cause to use them.

‘mother averna.’
 
the gunslinger knew nothing of this individual but based on the reaction from the child he could safely assume that the one called averna was of no harm to them. it was likely that she was the individual that glaucos had explained was taking care of him. illidan had not met the woman, therefore he did not have an opinion on her. the child seemed to have been in good health and mental stability. it wasn’t likely that she had caused much harm in his development stages.
 
when glaucos inquired where they would be going with a slur in his words, the ghost regarded the child with a weary glance before his gaze ventured out into the wilds to search the surrounding terrain. “anywhere you’d like,” illidan answered him in a gruff rumble of a voice. he did not want to limit the boy in his exploration. it was important for the dark young thing to learn about the outside world and to be able to explore to expand his knowledge.

The answer made him pause with one paw raised, pointing towards freedom with his entire body. He did not know what to make of the answer at first. Was he truly allowed to choose a path? He would not be in trouble for leaving the confines of the valley... Or leaving Astyanax to the attention of the horrible twins? If only he could trust that. Then again, this exploratory excursion was not a permanent thing; he need not be so worried. Dealing in such absolutes would surely drive him mad.

The boy gave a glimpse over his shoulder and thought about it for a second or two, then with a contentedness of youth, gave up his worries in favor of stalking through the grass. In the coming weeks winter would descend across this stretch of the wilds, and it being his first, he would not see these tall reeds for an eternity.

Some stalks had bits of dry seeds clinging to their tops. He bit some of their heads off, felt them give to the force of his teeth. Glaucos imagined the red-furred girl when he snapped at a small pile of red leaves; then, dashing a few meters off from Illidan's chosen route, he came back touting a long stick coated in mud — to his active imagination it was the swarthy boy who had bullied him. One end dragged across the dirt and cut a small trench that trailed behind.

the child was surprisingly less of a nuisance than illidan had initially expected. glaucos generally kept to himself and didn’t tend to speak up about much unless he had a question, or he wanted to express a small portion of thought. it was that sense of independence that the ghost liked, he imagined. there were things about the freckled child that reminded him of himself. those memories felt like they were from long before. some of them felt fresher than others.
 
the image of his father swept through his mind and illidan grunted, rising to his paws to trail after the course that had been set by his young companion. the ghost kept his distance, wanting to have his own space and to provide it for glaucos to venture. it would have done very little good for him to hover behind the boy. besides, he wasn’t a prison warden, and the child wasn’t his… it helped to force some space.
 
as the child roamed out and gathered his toy, illidan watched patiently.

As large as he was for his age the segement of tree had surpassed him when alive, so that when he tried to pull it out of the weeds and on to the path it stuck on the hump of a tree root, and temporarily teetered.

The jarring sensation of having his effort annihilated was something he could have done without. It strained his neck, and he refused to let go of the stick even as it tipped backwards, pulling him up to his hind limbs briefly.

Those long legs looked especially thin as he was made to rise; and then the branch went beyond him and he had to let go. It was upright a moment and falling the next, rolling some distance, then resting in the grass.

Glaucos twisted and then landed with his feet splayed, open-mouthed and huffing, looking around for the stick and then for Illidan to see if he'd noticed the great commotion of his antics.

it was curious to watch the boy discover the world around him. while the dark young pup attempted to free his stick, illidan watched with a few weary blinks and the faintest curling of his lips in amusement. the curiosity of children seemed to be something that was entirely unfamiliar to him. he had not recalled being that fascinated with the world around him at that age. then again, their family had been thrust into a time of turmoil and frustration. it made sense that he might not have experienced the same childhood as others. in a way, this boy was likely the very same.
 
illidan could only hope that time would be kinder to the freckled pup than it had been to him.
 
watching the child splay his feet and glance toward him, the ghost drew his head up and stared back at the youthful image.
 
“would you like to learn how to spar, boy?”
 
it was a question that was issued only once. he would not ask again if he was denied. the dark-hooded beast knew well that he had few remarkable talents that he could offer to one younger than he was. he’d learned to scout well, and they’d already ventured out beyond what the boy was accustomed to. fighting and running away seemed to be about all he knew how to do. since he wasn’t interested in teaching the boy how to escape just yet, he figured it’d be best to start with something that might be more fun.

This was the most fun he'd had in a long time - perhaps ever, in his short span upon the earth. Much as Karst loved his brother there was only so much entertainment one could find when keeping such limited company; the rest, the other children and most of the adults, frightened him to quietude rather than play. He had grown fearful of drawing their attention as it would often draw their ire too.

This man was different. He left Karst alone to frolick and cavort as he pleased, which was appreciated. The boy had stopped to gather breath while the mud and grass lay ruined beneath his chest; but he sucked a breath of air and held it as soon as a syllable passed Illidan's lips. The question went out to empty air—and Karst sat blinking, unaccustomed to the two-way street of conversation.

After a few moments he huffed and stood at his full height, though his head was low, shoulders tight and high. Spar...? He parroted; unaware that there was a term for the rough-housing he was often subjected to as the resident bait-dog.

‘spar?’
 
the child didn’t seem as though he was familiar with the term, which led illidan to believe that he had never really been taught the art of play-fighting by his caretaker or any potential pups that were his age. he wondered if it would be appropriate for him to teach the boy something more than just the standard tousling. there was no intention of harming the child, he knew himself well enough for that.
 
“come here and see if you can get a good bite on me,” the ghost remarked to the younger figure. he had no fear that the child would hurt him, but he was interested to see if the boy had any real talent for using his fangs and reading the scenario before him. though he was at a disadvantage, illidan had made a mental note that he should only defend himself. there would be other times to teach the boy how to attack.