Months. It had been months, since the day the little ground squirrel had met its end in his teeth. And that had turned out to be just the beginning of the training that Siberian had been right to fear. He still remembers them: the prey animals and the fearsome predators alike, every time he so much as glanced towards the surrounding pines, but especially when he shifted into his grizzly form. It had an influence upon him that the Budyonny could not deny. It was very nearly seductive, in fact. In his ursine body, all his worry about the condition of his soul, his belief that life was precious....well, all of that floated away to the back of his mind. Things got much simpler. Zayn found some unlucky animal, pointed him at it, and he unleashed every bit of his frustrated anger that he felt for everything that had happened to him since the day he had been foolish enough to venture into Beqanna upon it, as if his captivity and darkening outlook were all its fault.
He was not so small anymore, no longer of weanling size. He was quite leggy at present, beginning to grow into a young stallion's stature but not there just yet. The black colt listens to Zayn's spiel with a not-quite blank expression, doubting his tale from beginning to end and wondering what this mare might have done to cause the older male to hate her so much that he wished to set her up as a target now. Perhaps, she too, was a captive. Perhaps she'd denied Zayn of something that he wanted, or had even defied the Chamber itself. His gaze drifts to the fiery tree when the palomino paint finishes speaking, wondering just how he'd found himself standing so much closer to it this time. It still unnerved him with how it burned and burned but still lived, yet there was almost a hypnotic effect within how the red and orange flames danced and writhed. Were he to keep staring at it, he'd probably continue until the brightness destroyed his vision, and so he wrenches his dark head back towards Zayn, forcing himself to look away.
His heart, poised just above the abyss slowly forming within his chest, lurches at the thought of killing another horse in cold blood, no matter if she were truly evil or not. But the boy does indeed cling to that hope dangled by Zayn, that somehow all of his misery and the things he'd been put through were only to further a good purpose; and so he pauses only long enough to ask for the mare's name and a description before clicking that little furry switch in his brain that left behind the horse and brought forth the bear, setting out towards the caves that were supposedly where his next target had hidden herself. Settling into his skin (easier and easier each time), he huffs softly after the short climb, gazing about the area. Nose upraised, Siberian sorts out the various scents until he catches one that is an unfamiliar equine, wafting from one of the shadowed cave entrances. He approaches, unaware that he is beginning to growl softly, and pauses at the opening to let his eyes adjust before venturing further within. He speaks one word, an inquiry, a sought confirmation. "Fiasko? "
Siberian
The sexy grizzly boy of Beqanna