Since the dethroning of his brother Archibald, and with Emerson still missing, Kipp had stuck relatively close to Casimir after finding him. Returning to the Foothills only to wait, hoping, for Emerson to return. Their relationship was confusing, half fatherly, half brotherly, but Kipp loved him all the same. Evers however was a completely different story. Knox and Archibald fell into that list as well. There had been no time to seek out Evers and Archibald between the time he’d arrived and the time Archibald had been dethroned and Evers had followed him out. Where they were, Kipp was clueless. His only comfort was the beauty of the day and the fact that he could smell Casimir quite clearly. Following him like a lost lamb, though he was not lost. Not to him, at least. It was hard business, trying to keep who he wanted to be and Mandrake’s orders separated. He would kill on her command, and then be horrified later on. All he wanted was to be connected to nature, to make friends where his brothers had so few of them it seemed.

So on and on he followed Casimir’s trail, only worried a little for the blind brother he adored. Casimir had gotten used to his blindness, after all, but Kipp did not want him harmed anyways. Trail led him to a place he had heard of, though did not personally know. It was devoid of the greenery he loved in forests, and made his skin crawl slightly. Bright, childish smile dropped from his face and formed a more somber expression. Hooves falling with more care now as he followed the trail Cas had left. Murmuring of voices drew listeners forward in curiosity, moving slightly faster. The first to meet his eyes was a female, one he did not know. She was swathed in creams and palomino browns, around his age if not the same. Almost immediately she was bypassed when eyes focused on the stallions, both quite familiar to him. Face lit up and leonine tail flicked against his hocks as he leapt forward to greet them with a bright smile. He was finding his family, at last. They were coming together from their separation, and soon they would all be found. He was sure of it. "Evers! Cas!" Jogging up to them on his lanky yearling legs, extending muzzle briefly to the both of them. Turning to Evers, awaiting his guidance as he was used to. The older brothers were models, examples he had to follow. It was easy to turn the control to Evers, to allow him to sort out the mess they were all in due to Mandrake’s disappearance and Jackal’s take-over of the Foothills. Even so, he could not keep the happiness from his face despite the somber events and the imposing woods, glad to have found Evers and Casimir once more.

      

The murderer stalks through the wood, inhabiting the body of a much younger, much kinder soul. Manhattan trails behind, fearful the most of this new, twisted mind that haunts her master. She sees dark and abusive darkness within the mind of Knox's ancestor; of Dovev the wicked. Thick feathers drag in the dirt, picking up leaves and shuffling in the low, cold wind. He feels the mind of the dog reaching forth, desperate for her true master, and twists it. He takes her fears and makes them manifest in his innermost thoughts; shows her nothing but what she desired most to hide from.

And so she shirks from the beast; hides from his fearful majesty and longs once more for her master. Knox would not do this, she knows, but he invades her mind and tells her in his wicked tongue what she does not want to hear.

Knox is not here anymore.

And so Dovev rises in a low rear before smashing down before the pup and causing her to skitter away in fear. He strides with excessive pride through the wood and shakes the majestic mane of his ancestor as he cuts a path through to the clearing where Knox's brothers stand, ignorant. They are none the wiser of the turmoil in their brother's mind. And Knox cries out from the depths of the mind but Dovev suppresses the weaker soul. Dovev reigns.

Light falls through the trees and the forest opens up before him. He feels powerful, as if the world is his. And with new life and a new mind to exploit, what stops him? Is it the occasional violent jerk of the soul as Knox and so many other minds resist? No, they are easily surpassed. And the emotion of those around him is easily ignored; it seems Knox himself has done a fine enough job with that, despite differing intentions. So it is nothing that holds him back, he concludes.

And so he walks straight to the center of the clearing; stands beside and above the weak mare, breathes heavily upon her. He is a threat, it comes off of him in waves. He catches the gazes of Knox's youngest brother and shows him a wild look; a vicious one. He eyes the blind unicorn with twisted horns and sneers uncontrollably. Blindness is weakness; strange that his descendant holds such a power.

And then there is Evers, the eldest. "Brother Evers," Dovev says coldly, wickedly, tasting the word on his tongue. Dovev has never had a brother before; only sisters. Three weak and foolish sisters whose flesh had felt soft beneath him and whose blood had spilled so easily. He turns to look down on the mare now; unhesitatingly reaches forward to touch her neck with his soft, young muzzle. Ah, to possess new life- to feel it beside him. He reaches roughly forth with flashing teeth; aims to bite her neck as a warning of what her future holds. For even if she leaves his side, some other stallion will take advantage of her pretty face. Because she is nothing else but that; a pretty face, a warm body.

Manhattan hides in the shadows, silent for fear that a simple whine or recognition of her own presence might set off the demon inside her master's body. She hears his voice, listens to it as it hits the forest air and sounds cold and far off. She fears him.

"Kipp and Casimir- and you, young thing" the murderer continues with eyes that are meant to be a darker blue; eyes of fire. He sounds more confident than Knox ever has; more passionate and more dedicated to darker sides of life. "Tell me, Able," Dovev intones with a slight, recalling from the hunter's memories the word that his older brother had lost his ranking in the Foothills, "Is it your failure that so selfishly gathers us here?"

The female’s presence wasn’t a bother to the younger male, but Evers on the other hand was a bit more cautious. It was almost comforting to see how he stood protectively over their blind brother despite his own rather frail stature. Kipp worried for the both of them perhaps the most out of anyone else in their family, and frowned softly to see that Evers was still not eating as he should. There was a misunderstanding somewhere, though Kipp for the life of him missed it in his joy to see the two he adored. Dark mane splayed over his neck as he approached, sapphires brightening in recognition. Evers, too, must have realized quickly who he was. It had been quite some time but Kipp would never forget Evers. Relief was soft in his voice, and Kipp gave him a glowing smile in response. Arrival of Knox makes Kipp falter, remembering vividly the last time they had crossed each other’s path. It seemed the disease that clung to him had not ended, for his voice was cold and unnatural when it spoke his name. Kipp sidled up to Casimir’s side, careful not to shock him, watching Knox-not-Knox with a look of worry. Did Casimir also remember the plague he had been stuck with last season? He leaves the discussion of Archibald and his disappearance to the others, knowing nothing.

Explosion of sound and movement made him jerk out of his wandering thoughts, a vaguely familiar form blurring past the group as if hounded by death itself. Ears flicked back uncomfortably, as if feeling the mounting tension and growing quite uncomfortable with it. Archibald’s arrival was just as sudden, and Kipp paled beneath his presence. Pressing himself to Casimir so that his flank was level with the alabaster stallion’s shoulder. Casimir was just as fearful of Archibald as Kipp was, but Kipp was a bit more willing to shield him than the other way. Archibald had the right to punish him, or at least give him a verbal lashing, and Kipp was anticipating it with a heavy heart that he didn’t understand. The happy tone of discovering his brothers was quickly falling beneath the anger of the dethroning of his siblings. Kipp hid his whine well when Archibald snapped at them, but moved slightly ahead of Casimir so Archibald could focus on him and stop attacking his blind sibling. Cowards they were not, but he knew better than to object and watched his tongue. ”I have only just arrived here, brother Archibald. I was not even given the time to find you before I realized you had all gone,” he explained submissively but carefully. Best to avert Archibald’s anger with logic, if he could. Anything to stop that cold stare from pinning Casimir. Praying to the Earth God for strength to take this blow for Cas if he had to, because his heart was aflutter with love for his siblings and it was making his head a bit fuzzy. Ah yes, Emerson. Irises flicked away and to the ground. ”I do not know, we had been separated before arriving in Helovia.” Short and simple, telling the truth. Hoping it was enough, though doubting it was. When he is distracted by Knox, Kipp turned to Aswane. She is not meant to be here, and he fears for what may happen once one of the more violent brothers realizes she is lingering. He smiles at her weakly, but his eyes urge her to move along, not wanting her caught up in this. He is far too mature for his age, though they are similar in seasons. Will she heed his silent urge? Either way he cast a concerned glance at Emerson, unable to keep the defeated look away before he turned and murmured quietly to Casimir. It mattered not what he said, he just wanted to comfort the cowering stallion. It was a conversation meant only for their ears, with how low he cast his voice, and he prayed for the strength to get through this encounter.

      

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."