His spine had snapped, like brittle firestarter. The pain at first had been excruciating, blinding, and then numbing when Raxa had at last pulled herself off Crevan. Thana had luckily jumped in, sparing him the need to try and moan for help because the action itself would’ve been useless. His ribs, too, had bent inwards to puncture healthy lungs while below the waist he’d felt nothing at all. What Crevan should be is dead.

Instead, he’s slumbering rather peacefully until the twitch of a phantom feeling jerks one tan ear to the side. There’s shuffling, enough to rouse him steadily from an otherwise undisturbed sleep and with the turn of his massive, lupine head he blinks until his twin’s shape comes into focus. Nothing is lost in the look between them and after what Crevan deems too long of a time for Corvus to be staring like that, his ivory lips pull up to reveal wet, closed teeth.

“First-to-Fly,” He snaps mockingly, rising from his curled position to stretch growing limbs and fluff out dew-soaked fur. Before meeting his father, Crevan had been desperate to receive acceptance from his elder brother - he might have done anything to gain approval in those otherwise dark eyes. But when his feathered brother had left them all at the River? When he had said nothing and gave them all a glance so similar to the one he was giving now? It reminded Crevan that acceptance was something he should’ve never cared about.

Not from Canaan, not from Crevan, not from anyone other than himself. He was powerful, happy to be wolf and part of the pack and if Corvus wanted a pat on the back, he could get it elsewhere. “we missed you in Sylva.” He finishes with a sharp quip, settling quietly into a proper sit before curling a plumed, thick tail over his paws like mother. “Though, someone has to have our father’s useless knack of never being around and I guess I can say I’m glad it’s not me.” He smirks.

This is his strategy, though. Always has been. Take the needle, prick the skin, push just far enough and you’ll hit a nerve. With the disinterested blink of navy eyes he turns his attention to Jah, tongue lolling childishly from the corner of his maw. “It wasn’t all that scary, right Jah?”

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“I wasn’t given a choice, it was thrust upon me.” He wants to say, once Corvus’ embittered tone cuts through the quiet air. That thought alone highlights so much that’s twisted in the dynamic between the brothers - a grave misunderstanding that will rip and tear at them for a time. “If he had any idea …” Crevan thinks, narrowing dark eyes with the turn of his head once Jah chimes in.

The Underneath had changed Crevan. It gives him pause to wonder: would Corvus have been so successful, had he been thrown into the fray? Or was it simply destiny, some alignment of the stars that cast him as the warrior while his brother remained behind? “Could things have been different if Corvus had been the one to emerge with new power?”

But his twin’s speech is cutting through his thoughts, sawing at Jah-Lilah’s character in hopes to expose her middle, and Crevan?

Oh, how he laughs.

Laughs and laughs and laughs as Corvus disappears, just a flurry of feathers and unshed tears. “We’re living in a hell on earth.” He chortles, flopping easily enough onto his belly. “Why not enjoy the ride?”

So different, still very much the same.

However, Jah-Lilah’s question does arouse some topics for future thought. The young wolf’s mind is a busy place anyways, this interaction only serves to bring on something of a headache. “Don’t mind him so much, aunty.” The boy huffs, lowering his head once more with nothing to do but relax. “Mother spoiled him too much as a baby.”

And with that, the aging boy yawns once before closing his eyes. He’d been chasing down the hare of a dream, it was time he finished the job.

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