He lands in Nerine with a heavy thud. Slowly, his head turns from left to right as he searches for his long-lost child. The leg in his mouth has grown cold but the fires of his rage remain an inferno when he spots Yadigar returning from his visit at the mountain. Ghaul issues a short yowl to command his attention, and the boy lifts his head abruptly in response. The monster moves forward with his head held high and his wings still spread in a feral threat display, but he knows this will not require any further violence.
 
He drops the limb at his son’s feet and considers him for a moment. The child has grown, now eye to eye with his father but not quite so filled out. Ghaul snorts. “Tell me whose leg you think this is,” he demands, craning his neck to bring his face closer to Yadigar’s. “Tell me the price of your rebellion.”
 
The boy takes a step back as he lowers his chin to sniff at the awful thing. He sucks in a short breath when he realizes it and he cowers backward, head lowered and meek. “No.. She had nothing to do with it, I swear,” he pleads with tears already streaming from his blind eye. But Ghaul only laughs and steps over the dismembered leg to press his nose to Yadigar’s cheek. He cherishes the scent of his sobbing, the way he twitches in dismay. But he wastes no time savoring this small victory. Instead, he grabs the boy by the jaw and shoves him back to the very edge of the northern cliffs.
 
“Did you think you were safe, here? Did you think I would not find you?” he demands. “You were too weak to face your destiny and now she has died for it. Will others have to pay for your crimes, or will you submit?”
 
The crooked king studies the scents across Yadigar’s skin then, committing them to memory. It would break his heart to punish Cirilla, but the other smell is of a stranger. Another easy pawn to take. Ghaul gives a snarl as he waits for his heir to reply.
 
“I hate you. I hate you!” he cries, snapping his own teeth as he tries to push his father back from him. His efforts are met with only a laugh as the monster tips his head back in delight. They are interrupted, then, as Virgil skitters closer to observe the struggle between them. Ghaul turns to the smaller boy and sighs slowly.
 
“Virgil, where is the other leg you were supposed to retrieve?” he asks as he finally gives Yadigar space. The smaller child pouts and stomps a tiny hoof in frustration. “She came back, and she’s bigger than me!” he explains with his ears pinned back. Ghaul tilts his head curiously as he considers this news for a moment longer before turning back to his eldest son. He could return to Pangea and kill her as many times as it takes, but perhaps her revival will spare him from executing Cirilla and the mystery friend his children have made. He steps closer to Virgil and places a delicate kiss to the crown of his head.
 
“Yadigar, fate smiles upon you. Collect the witches in the west for our purpose. If you disobey me again, I will kill your friends much slower this time,” he says with an awful smile spread wide across his scarred face.
 
The boy gives no reply – the hurt in his expression is answer enough.