[Sincate]

Paws drummed in the rhythm of their heart, a force that awakened a certain anger that seemed all so familiar. They had been exiled from the family, cast out because they had been too curious and far too forward, questioning their value as Bane took a title that wasn’t his. They had all been greedy, even Sincate as they faced danger, but as a fledgling, were they not fated to become royal? And even if they were not, the tattoos branded under their eyes were ignored, a mere Elite trying to dominate a child much more prestigious than him, but he was too proud to care and Crenate had been too corrupted to correct.

And in the end, their so called ‘father’ killed Enys. Oriana wasn’t there to settle the situation; she had run like a coward in Sincate’s eyes. Now a wing had snatched her crown to place it on his own head and the Sabor didn’t care.

Tradition meant nothing.

The red ignis dire swept across jungle, gliding through the territory as they searched for Nero, or Crenate, or any of the bastards that killed their brother. The ire within burned and scorched like lava that had once spilled over the lip of Mother’s summit, the fledgling harnessing the energy in order to storm into the inner rings and snarl. “COWARDS!!” they screamed, tongue swept over teeth as they shined in the moonlight. A fog had settled over, the temple quiet as they approached. Sincate stormed through, wanting to leave a bloody trail in their wake of all the souls that defied them. Defied the sacred symbols of Saboro — the red tattoo under their eyes.

“BANE!! CRENATE!” they roared, walking up the stairs. “NERO!!”

Silence.

Sincate stood on the top step, listening and waiting for the denizens to appear, saliva spilling over teeth. Blue eyes stared expectedly, wide and nearly popping from the fledgling’s skull, but still.

Silence.

“Where the fuck are you?! Do you now cower?! COME OUT SO I CAN CHALLENGE YOU PETTY WHELPS AND SPILL YOUR BLOOD LIKE YOU SPILLED MY BROTHER’S!!”

Silence.

Ears twitched as something moved behind them, blue flashing back along with ivory. The dark made it hard to see, and as Sincate turned, they realized who it was. “Crenate.” Tail stood and lips peeled back in an ugly growl. “You’re not fit to lead this pack any longer, I’m going to challenge you, take your crown and let you bleed out like the pig you are.”

And I’m going to enjoy it.  

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---

set before the group thread where sincate re-enters the territory.....

[Gray]

G R A Y

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He was a man towering on wreckage a million miles tall, trying to get a grip.


Gray knew loss.


He knew pain. He knew the insufferable sting of a sibling’s lost life. He knew of hopelessness and how it took hold and flayed you to the bone. He knew of all of these things, but he did not pretend to know or understand the fledgling’s strife. What they had bore witness to was not a scene that should’ve ever had the chance to unfold, nor would it ever be forgotten.


Battered ears twitched as Sincate drew near, hate in their voice and anger in their muscle; and for just a moment Gray got a taste of what Bane must’ve felt all those days ago. A glimpse of a past life. Himself in someone else. Had the circumstances been different, he might’ve even smirked at the wrath that came billowing off of the ignis in almost tangible waves of steam.


The now-mismatched eyes narrowed a fraction, waxy lips pulling into a sharp grin that didn’t immediately betray himself, or the weight of the situation they were in. So… Sincate didn’t know.


“You look rabid,” he noted crisply. “Did you catch something, out there?” A tilt of the head, but otherwise he stayed complacent in the shadow; unwilling to move because this darkness offered opportunity he would not otherwise have.


“You want... my crown? What have I not given you to make you so greedy?” A small shake of his head and a slightly overly dramatic sigh. “Those other children, my own, so unfortunate, weren’t they? To be have been born bastards. Not even they were given what you, mere orphans, were given the privilege of.”


Teeth glimmered in the sliver of light that filtered in.


“And what would you do with that title, Sabora?”

_____

OOC: as a note, yes he's using the shadows to pretend to be Crenate.

[Sincate]

Crenate had stayed silent, and for a moment, Sincate was unsure if he was going to call denizens from the shadows like a coward, but even if that was the case, the red fledgling would've used every last of their ounce to kill them and render them useless like they had Enys. The screams still haunted them, still cried and echoed between their ears and reverberated against their teeth (or was that their own growls?) "Rabid." they repeated, tasting the word on their tongue. The sickening growl turned into a wide smile, tugging up their features until muscle strained. "The only thing I caught was the Queen, and she is never coming back."

Oriana had run and she refused to place the crown back on her head. Yet Bane had no business taking the crown, he was just as fucking greedy as the rest of them. He always had been.

With one swift motion, the red ignis dire leaped from the steps down to the pathway, making them and Crenate on a level field. "Stop talking." Sincate demanded, hissing between syllabels. "We were never your children, or Oriana's. Only pawns to step on and to feed to the masses when you needed sacrifice. You took my brother when he spoke truth and you were too fucking embarrassed to do anything yourself, so you let your other pawns do the dirty work. But you still killed him. You supported a greedy wing to take a crown that wasn't his and an elite with a god complex." Sincate finally took a breath, feeling air filling their burning lungs. Talking was never their forte.

Observation was.

Sincate almost sprang toward Crenate at the mocking question, their stomach pulling in and felt as though it was reeling. "Do not mock me." they warned, a growl once again ripping through their throat, large paws moving forward at a casual pace. "I will become Sabora and I will leave your corpses hanging in the trees where the monkeys can piss on your pelts. You will be erased from existence. Or perhaps..." Sincate paused for a moment, still unable to realize who they were actually talking to.

A son who had lost a father. A son who had been abandoned and forgotten. A son unrecognized and unworthy just as Sincate had been. As Enys had been. As Abyss, Jezebel, Ratchet, Hodge and Seneca had been. They were all pawns and worthless in the eyes of self-proclaimed Gods.

"Perhaps I should rip your tongue from your head and pull every teeth you have out of your skull. Perhaps I should pluck the last eye and render your face unrecognizable."

It was then they lunged, their bulky frame aiming to slam into Crenate's (Gray really) chest, their teeth aiming for that red eye.

Saboro wanted it's share of blood, and tonight Mother would drink her fill.

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[Gray]

G R A Y

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At some point during their interaction the world inside the temple plunged into darkness as the moon crested the trees, walls blockading the moon’s shine and leaving Sincate, at the only entry way, to glow in its light. They looked every bit the ball of fire and fury that bled through every word and every figurative dagger.

The man with crooked features and pursed lips and eyes that burned through the darkness watched in almost serene silence as the fledgling raved. The knife twisted in his chest, each sentence driving it further. 

Their voice distorted into white noise and Gray’s breathing slowed. He closed his eyes for just a moment. 

“It seems I’m already unrecognizable to you.” 

Blue and red seared through the ignis like scorching metal, his arsenal of weapons bared and ready to meet them in war’s embrace. They lunged, he defended. The man reared onto his hind legs just enough to not be toppled over or pushed back by their aggressive advance. 

Teeth looked to clutch at any part of their face and tear them asunder. Sincate was far too … clean for a Saboran. 

Saborans looked like him. Like splintered shards of glass, like broken teeth and bloody hands. Like regret.

“You lost a brother,” he’d manage regardless of fur or muscle that may find its way to his mouth. “I lost a dad.” Crenate. “A father.” Mara. “Siblings.” Leaf, Rorschach, Mould, Cyanide, Bracken, Alois. The only survivor of a litter of seven. “Do not talk to me about hurt.”

He would push them then, ward them away with snapping teeth and the guttural snarls of a feral. “They aren’t here for your revenge. Crenate, Bane, Nero, they’re all gone, or otherwise, dead.”

“You’re too late.”  

[Sincate]

Their bulk hit mostly air but their teeth snapped regardless if they hit the face of their "father." Head twisted to grab at the underside or a leg, teeth crunching into bone and muscle if hit. The sting of teeth hitting the side of their head became numb as their adrenaline and anger pent up to an unfathomable density. Gray pushed Sincate back, pulling away skin from either one or both of them, blood splattering the ground and glistened in the all-seeing moon.

It was then that the fledgling realized that this was not Crenate, the gray pelt in the pale light was a figure of imagination, one conjured up within hatred. Of anger.

Hot blood rushed down the side of their face, but the ignis dire never faltered. The pain was nothing compared to the sting of loss, the anguish of knowing that they were nothing useful. Gray had lost everything, and Sincate couldn't comprehend, but that's only because they never had a family to begin with.

"I had nothing ever to begin with." they stated finally, blue looking into dual eyes. The scarred one where Crenate had just a socket was a milky blue on the boy before them. "Crenate had his own kids. Oriana had hers. But us? Bastards, a means to an end. A stone to toss in the wind. A sacrifice to kill once useless, but you..." Words trembled as their body wracked with some emotion they had never felt.

"They praised you. They let you live with ease."

The fledglings had standards, they couldn't be weak. Enys showed defiance in the face of his maker and he lost his life, but Gray? Leaf?

Rorschach.

They would've never shared the same fate.

Lips moved over teeth, sheathing them into darkness once more. Eyes shifted to the blood on the ground as it grew dull in the light, seeping into the earth and stone. Sincate scoffed once before starting to chuckle lightly. "So they really care cowards." Cowards who clutched their crown only to throw it aside to some unknown fate. And what of Saboro itself? Would it die? Would they all die?

Sincate turned then, slowly making their way back up the stairs. This used to be a home, a place to watch work be done. Jackdaws used to line the corners and the Sabor and Sabora would keep watch as their elites conducted the masses. As a pup, Sincate observed far more than they let on, but now it was all ash and dust. Nothing mattered. They would spare a glance to the volcano, a towering giant that menacingly watched the two in their encounter.

And as if beckoning, a slight wind picked up. Saboro whispered gently, enough for Sincate to listen.

Sabora.

They hesitated.

Sabora.

Oriana had abandoned her crown, leaving it behind to be picked up. Bane had never been worthy of it.

Sabora.

"It's not too late." They say, turning again at the top of the stairs. "It's never too late, Sabor."

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[Gray]

G R A Y

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Sincate’s teeth ripped into some part of his side, and he into them. The two reverted back to simpler times in this brief exchange. Times not of thought, but of emotion. Driven by instinct and not by adapted human characteristic. 

But it was all over in a matter of moments, the remnants of his childhood memories dissolving with the last drop of blood that hit the floor. Tattered ears twitched, and his muzzle wrinkled in a frown. 

“With… ease?” The man scoffed, brandishing a sharp, twisted smile and pinprick eyes. “I don’t recall a moment in the countless hours that I walked the border being easy. I don’t remember a single ‘good job.’ I don’t remember any appreciation for my hard work. I remember Leaf. I remember her being praised. I remember people telling me to always be better, be like her, be like your sister! But you know what? I never was good enough.”

And with a breathy exhale, a sudden realization-- 

“I was never going to be good enough.”  

Muscles shook ever so slightly, and if Sincate had not been there in that moment of pain and abrupt understanding, frustration would’ve burned out his eyes in angry tears. But the man stilled himself, he swallowed that lump in his throat and forced dry eyes to stay dry. 

“Sabor...” they said, and he echoed them in mindless chorus. Sabor… But Crenate was…. 

Uncertainty fogged over that remaining good eye. He’d always wanted greatness, but this-- 

“If Saboro is to survive, I guess we have no choice.” 

[Sincate]

Sabor —

he echoed and Saboro whispered back.

Gray had been a spark all along, something that was overlooked and shoved under while his siblings came on top. Leaf had been Crow — War Captain — since she was young, but no more. Sincate had listened between the silence, and although Gray had his own grief, he was not the set example the ignis dire had in mind. No matter, there were other things to deal with now, like the disappearance of the denizens that clutched their crown in desperation.

"If Saboro is to survive, we must lead it." Two outcasts that had their own bitter taste of despair. Was Sincate so greedy to help their empire gain traction? To lead their people to glory as it once was? Was it greedy to take a position in which to lead instead of feed off the flesh of their own people?

"We must leave." The jungle has taken too much from them. Blood too slick to walk right anymore, Sincate could taste the bitterness. "I know where to lead them. We... need to lead them."

Would he follow?

"Rise." they said, sitting down. "You're now better than your sister."

You're now King.

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