Victory, vengeance, and revenge tasted beautiful on his mouth. It sizzled across his tongue, forked and serpentine like a snake, like an asp, like a cobra, and he was fire, he was brimstone, he was all embers, all consecration, coiled on the banks of the lake, successful and intrepid, courageous and damned. Erebos wanted to dive against the contentment, the satisfaction, and yield to it again, roam until each and every enemy was maimed, ripped, and torn apart, buried deep in the hollows where no one would find them, where no one would remember their name. He’d be a monster, a piece of malice, a weapon against the world, and it’d be breathtaking, searing, enticing, and alluring.
 
But for now, he could settle, poised on the threshold of triumph and treachery, smiling down at the bundle nestled between his forelegs. He’d received another companion, a gift, a blessing, something his avaricious mind had gleamed upon and never thought possible. How many times had he strived? How many times had he begged? How many times had he pleaded and cried and wanted? Every time, the world had looked away, had chosen someone else, had left him one more mark of failure in a long list of ineffectual moments. But this one hadn’t been (and oh lord, to watch that other kitsune sizzle and gnarl in pain had been worth the tribulations), and it only encompassed the layers of his defiance more. His boldness, his impudence, his brazen regards had finally landed him what he’d craved; perseverance, tenacity, and abominations had favored the little lost prince, and he intended to cherish the opportunity.
 
The egg did naught, shaking a little, like an absent-minded thought, an obscure gesture, and Orsino would reach across to poke it, fascinated, curious, more than just the devil and demon locked in sable finery and Stygian pursuits. Erebos arched his brow, some semblance of a warning to the other beast, and for once in his life, the fiend listened, rocked back on his haunches, sitting, staring, fascinated. The prince and his fox could wait – stirred again by patience, by duty, by experience, by glory and its poignant facets; his heart beat longingly for so many things all at once (but this would be enough, enough for now). Another beginning curled amidst them – a revival, a resurgence, a renewal, and he looked towards the mountains again, along the tomb where his father reigned, wondered if he was somehow part of this blessing too. 

[Simultaneous hatching ftw!]