Cries that break through the background music of the lurking nature capture his attention, pulling him from his wanderings and his prayers, He stills, holding his breath and tilting his ears to better listen to the sound of despair. It draws him in, encourages him to approach, the way a hunter is attracted to weakness. So he stalks through the brush, curious even if he isn't hungry, and he's not today, hasn't been ever since the failure of a pale filly. He was starving in his youth, feasting and gorging but never satiated. He thinks back on it often lately, ruminating on what changed, pondering which stomach pains are better (the gnawing ones or the numb silence?)
He thinks the satisfaction of a full gut is something preferable - better is perhaps a strong word to use.
He's taken a page from his cousin's book, realized over time and immersion into the culture of herd life (so different from his mother's wayward methods int he wilderness) that a predator among a flock is frowned upon. Show your teeth and they either scatter or they brandish their own weapons on you, and you come to find teeth are not the only thing that hurts and cuts. So he hides his grin beneath curling lips instead, the way a fox smiles, the way something patient smiles. He needs to cultivate something before he can wreck it, and that makes it all the better, doesn't it.
And what if he forgets to wreck it when the time comes? What if he comes to love it as he helps it grow?
He doesn't know, he isn't there yet, but part of him wonders, is that so bad? Gods can be powerful
He thinks Lena would approve. It buoys his heart.
It doesn't mean that just because he isn't craving depravity, that he can't continue to appreciate it, the way a vegetarian finds themselves drooling as a savory aroma of meat wafts by. So it is that Öde finds himself watching the scene of violence that unravels before him. He can't remember when he arrived, when he came to a halt, when he leaned against a tree and cocked a hip, simply content to observe. He can't remember, but when he grows aware of it, he makes no move to change. He merely blinks, wondering, studying, drooling over the nefarious deeds wrought by his
He doesn't know the children are his, not at first, or else Öde might have taken action to stop the hulking monolith that is Reginald. He would have stopped him not out of altruism for the children, but out of devotion to an ideal that blood is stronger than all else, and that even a marauder such as Reginald ought to respect that. He doesn't have to, Reginald comes tot he realization on his own, and Öde grows aware of the significance of the infant brutality after it has passed.
So to him, he did nothing more than look on upon a dying mother and her twins as Reginald displayed his rightful savagery. Why? Why not Öde thought, comfortable, entertained even.
the destroyer of worlds.
Be aware active magic doesn't work in his vicinity due to his magic!
62.5/62.5 HP
Helovia Hard Mode