Lost stallion hears the voices of his family in quick succession and wants them gone. Funny that the one he seeks is the one he wishes to be rid of now. Mandrake is like a figure outgrown, something he clung to in childhood but no rises above. She may tell him to kill and he may listen, but he does not feel a connection with her- not like Archibald, Kipp, or Vincent, the others birthed to her aside from himself. He knows that he needs her for this task, however, and that after his latest kill she is certain to oblige, so he behaves.

She is only certain to oblige if he does not let the connection he feels with his father show. She need not know the entire truth behind the task presented, she will likely see it as a sign of disrespect and partial disowning. If there is anything he cannot do now is offend her, for without her cooperation he will have nothing and will have failed his Goddess. It will be easy enough to lie to her, he thinks- or at least give her only the partial truth. Mandrake is powerful and can do many things, but a stallion lacking emotion as Knox is, is quick to lie and skilled as well.

But just as it may have all gone simply, Wilder arrives. It is not a surprise to see his mother's white shadow when he thinks of it at first, but then the realization of how long it has been since he has seen his eldest brother dawns upon him. He was present only at his birth, was he not? Knox struggles to remember seeing the feathered ancient at any other time or in any other place. Archibald, Casimir, and Evers have always been prominent influences, but his other brothers have seemed to fade. Even Vincent, normally attached to Archibald at the hip, has been scarce. He wonders if they avoid him, or if it is he who avoids them.

Regardless, he must show respect. The bone and his head drop as his body rises in greeting. "Mother, Wilder," he says with a sideways shift of his leg to nudge Manhattan to stand. Had their bond been close he would have not needed to remind her, but it has been some time since they have been in such a formal setting. There is a tenseness in the air, a suspense that hangs as he considers each word carefully. "The Goddess of the Moon has sent me here, Mother, so that I might grow stronger," begins the half truth. Stronger, yes, but not in a way she will appreciate. He walks closer to his arabian brother, looks over his scarred and lean figure with faint curiosity. He did not remember Wilder to be so short; in comparison to his own physique he hardly finds him intimidating, regardless of the experience he carries with him. Still he will do well to keep his mouth shut; he had already risked a battle with Archibald, and upsetting Mandrake now with such a habit would do no good. "She asks that I bring her a bone from the body of the sentinel, carved by your claws," he says with instruction and a disinterested glance down upon the corpse. He can only hope that from their place in the shadows they did not see his reaction.

Manhattan whines at his feet, carrying in her jaws a bone to present to his mother- the same bone he had picked up himself. He nuzzles his companion lightly and turns to his mother now, looking at her expectantly, hoping she will agree. "I would give you whatever you require of me in return, mother," Knox adds for assurance. Perhaps motherly love will overtake her, however- perhaps out of the kindness of her shriveled old heart, she will grant him this favor.