The murderer is discontented. Evers has offered him only condescending words of wisdom- words that could not be argued with. Dovev lets his lips curl upwards and a heavy, sighing exhale extend forth into the air as everything seems to slip from him. His casual but dark hold on the arena fades as the young mare approaches Knox's weakest brother. Let her flee his grip- he will be back for her. He will haunt her mind as that dark creature with flashing teeth and the intent to carry her away for his own enjoyment. He finds comfort in this and this alone as Knox's eldest brother as well as his most explosive one arrive. Archibald and Tajheri, the truly powerful members of the family.

But all of them beneath Mandrake. She, the most powerful; she, who lords over them, controls them and contorts them to her will. Perhaps Knox, in his own unattached way, could have handled it. Dovev, however, is a creature who can not be tamed. He sees their mother as a threat and a vile beast. Mandrake is not Dovev's mother; it makes it all the more easier for the wicked, ancestral spirit to utter the following words:
"I am no child, Archibald- I have aged just as we all have under mother's hoof. But with the exception of our bob-tailed brother and our mother's greatest devotee, we have at last come together, brothers- and I do have opinions,'" he begis. His voice is powerful and deep- each word booms through the wood, forcing Manhattan to crawl further back into shadow in fear of this ancestor's power and murderous influence. "We've lost everything, and at whose will? Is it not time that we view our mother for her wicked deeds against us? Should she not be held accountable, just as we have been for so many years?" The ancestor betrays his age, but only in a passing remark. He is too confident to curse himself for the mistake- and surely no other brother will notice.

But Dovev's arrogance may be his downfall. Failure to listen to Knox's own mind leads him out of the colt's character, perhaps in a way that his brothers might recognize. Dovev only hops he might liberate them first. Liberate them and give himself a bit of fun, as well.

"Surely her charms have not worked so well that you find her above punishment, brothers," the ancestor speaks from the soapbox of the familiar figure. Manhattan, whining, turns away from the scene as if it is too much of a horror to even witness. Perhaps she simply knows what it is that he will say next.

"Certainly at some point we have all entertained the thought of her death at our will."