" every scar will build my throne. "
In another life, maybe a different time, Vulgaris might have understood their penchant for protecting even distant family members. But his own blood is too ancient to map and he doesn’t care much for his siblings beyond the ones he grew up with. He’s seen them in passing and connected the dots enough to figure out they’re the children of his father’s affairs. Maybe blood should bind them as Castile is bound to Wolfbane but he feels no inclination to care for them any more than he does the other strangers he passes by.
He turns his sage green gaze back to the king when he proposes a tournament for the title. Vulgaris drags his teeth along the sharp points of his fangs at the thought of tearing through the entire kingdom to prove his strength. There would be enough blood to casually backstroke in. The torn remnants of his lips pull back into something like an ugly smile at the thought.
He opens his mouth to agree with Wolfbane, for once, but he is quickly distracted by Starsin’s sudden appearance into their argument. Her words are gasoline on a fire that was already raging just fine. The flames crawl up from his belly and form words on the tip of his tongue. His eyes narrow and venom drip, drip, dips from the largest of his fangs.
“When I’m done with you, you will beg the gods to just let you die. Then, I’m going to wear your face while I fuck your wife. She'll love you more than she ever has.”
Maybe he means it. Maybe he doesn’t. He’s already imagining all the ways he’d mangle Wolfbane’s family as he turns and makes his leave. Leliana will be upset to know that he gave in to his ravenous hunger for violence again.
VulgariS
