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He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of this. He was out on his own once more, leaving Samm to have his alone time with Jasira. Jas hated letting Dene go off alone but she liked the quiet time with Samm. Samm lacked the nervous tendencies that Dene had, and the hare simply liked her time where she could relax and not worry about impending doom. Something that was hard with either brother but Samm was more likely to stay out of trouble. After he had left however, she had had this sinking feeling she should have followed Dene.

But Dene was trying to get used to being alone. Not that he felt he’d ever need to leave Samm, but he needed to be confident enough to not rely on Samms presence to keep him going. Samm was an asset, but he wasn’t something that Dene needed to fully rely on. He needed to be able to trust himself. So in the dead of night, the moon sparkling against the adolescents back, he was making his rounds. He wasn’t even sure what he was looking for, if anything, but Dearbhail made sure that each boy scouted each night. It was a training purpose and she wanted to make sure they were ready at all times. She really did run them too hard but Dene was becoming used to her methods and they bothered him less and less as time went on.

Angra wasn't hiding what he had done, he didn't know a lion in his right mind who would mess with the disaster area he was knee deep in. Before his snout was a body, the scent of beautiful, sharp, healthy blood stung the air and caused animals daring to pass by to wrinkle their nose in disgust and horror. The body was of an old female lioness, the look on her face was one of horror. Flashing back Angra grinned at his memories. She was a stunning natural looking fae with beautiful and adoring grace. A lioness who'd seen many years, but none like this.

He was bulky, but handsome, a striking male that one may think looking something of a kindly sort with his aging stages. but one look into his eye's told his whole pain-staking life story of hatred, and horrors of his own. The death was quick he had to admit he had out done himself this time. It was even some what clean, but the blood on his paws and jaws was obvious, very sweet and warm. He smiled at the open eye's of his prey and where blood clung to the pelt she bent down and began licking it clean. "Ahh.." He sighs softly as the blood simply melts in his mouth.

There was no mistaking that sent that clung to his nostrils. It was like a sticky smell that he couldn’t get out of his nostrils if he tried. He snorted, sneezing a bit in an effort to release his nose from the scent. It wasn’t the blood of a prey animal, it smelled too rich for that. No, this was the scent of a predator.. Someone who shouldn’t have been bleeding so profusely, but from the smell, it was a mortal wound. His interest piqued, he slowly turned in the direction. He followed his nose, as sickening as it made him. His stomach churned from the idea of finding a dying feline, likely a hunting accident gone bad. He’d seen that happen so many times that he was almost used to it. Almost. Then things like this happened and he briefly wondered if the last thing the creature saw was him coming to their aid.

His thoughts had kept him preoccupied as he searched, but when he saw the scene before him it was hard not to hurl everything he had eaten for breakfast that morning. A large, crimson lion stood in a pool of blood. He couldn’t tell where the blood ended and the lion began, it was so terrible. The closer he got, the older the blood scent got. This wasn’t a fresh kill, but it was recent. He shuddered at the idea of what the lioness had gone through, and then flicked his ears back angrily. Who the hell was this guy?

“That’s classy. “ He muttered, stepping out from his shadows that he had been clinging to. This seemed a very bad idea, to approach this guy without backup. But he was mutilating the body of an innocent, and he was enjoying it. That alone made him a target on Dene’s list of things to get rid of. And at the moment he was at the very top of the list.

Angra wasn't completely dull in the 'senses' area. He had heard a crunch and a breath out before the younger lion spoke. He was already smiling, images of what the lion probably looked right now with the current scene before him. Without turning around Angra lifted his head and straightened himself out. All this together made him look quite larger than he had before. A true threat to any lion who hadn't thought of a plan before ambushing him, it was a gift of his. "My apologies for not cleaning up during my meal, I wasn't expecting company." His voice was deep and raspy, cruelty dripping thickly from his tone. He was amused and had the personality of the 'joker' with a certain twist. It was in his blood.

"If you give me a moment here to gain my composure, I'm sure we could start off a bit better young lion." He noted the age gap between them with a bit of a proud hiss and turned to face him. His face was filled with creases of long days and hardships. Not a shocking face to be seen doing something so completely wrong and disgraceful. His body in the light was not doing so well either. Scars marred most of his pelt and his pelt was shorter in places where he'd been cut up in fights etc. "Though if you don't.. I suppose I can't help, but to understand why you're so disgusted and would want to stand and fight? Though you seem a bit green in the pelt young friend..." Angra almost giggled at the look of illness of the lions face from the scenario laid out before him.

When he stood to full size, Dene paused and his eyes widened a bit. He was getting bigger, filling out and becoming a more intimidating foe. But he still wasn’t full grown and this lion surely was. He was scary, and his eyes were something unlike the Yellow Eyed Demon. He was different somehow.. Crue had a mission, a desire and a way of attaining all he wanted. This guy looked like madness was more his thing, and those were sorely unpredictable. He’d spent enough time with Dearbhail to understand that this guy, was something Dene himself should fear. But he did his best to stay strong, stand tall and not back away from the monsterous scene before him.

“If this is your meal, then I think you have a few more issues than just cleaning up.” He said, his tongue always more bold than his body. He got himself in trouble a lot that way, but he usually faired pretty well.

“You stand before the body of an innocent being. A lioness who likely died trying to escape you, not fight you. You look at me like I am going to be sick, and its at the horror before me. Anyone, or anything that could do something like this, doesn’t deserve to breathe.” He said, narrowing his eyes and bracing his muscles. He wasn’t sure if this would end in a fight. If it did, it would likely end badly. But he wasn’t going to show weakness, if it was the last thing he did.

“Don’t talk about her like that.” Dene replied, his brows narrowing as his lips pursed together. He stared as if his one thought was to kill the guy in front of him. It was what he was thinking, so it was only right for the idea to be playing in his eyes. Though he knew he couldn’t take the big guy down alone. There was no question to who had the upper paw here. But he wasn’t going to stand here and let the lion talk about killing the poor lioness.

“I normally don’t introduce myself to monsters.” He replied flatly, not bothering to give his name. He wasn’t really the outgoing type. In fact his normal train of thought would have had him running away. He couldn’t yet though. Running would get him no where.

When the lion raised his paw up to Dene’s nose, his ears flicked back against his skull and his claws came out to bat the offending paw away. He wanted that no where near him, and he made it obvious.
“Do I look like the type that wants anything to do with what you’ve done here? Besides kicking your a** of course. But lets face it. Im a hell of a lot smaller.” He replied sternly.

Angra's brows rose slightly when Dene spoke again, the smile never left though, infact it grew more devilish. "You care for the innocence of this lioness?" He let his paw fall in the motions the young lion followed. They were fighting motions, but Angra had control of himself like one wouldn't believe seeing the actions before them. "If this lioness were not innocent?" He asked quietly, an inquisitive look on his face. "What if this.. b***h.. was as innocent as you or I?" His eye's turned from inquisitive to knowing, he simply had a feeling about this young male. He seemed to have more about him then was of course let on, unless this was really all he had? "Look at your eye's, damned as though you've seen the God of Hate himself!" He smiled fluently and stood, lowered his head into something of a fighting stance, but merely gave a teasing/taunting snarl.

"Yes... it smells like there's more to you as well... How old is your darling companion?" He brought his nose to the air, sharp senses meant alot in this world, he could smell Samm on this youngster. All conversation Dene had continued was ignored, Angra was a hunter now and Dene had promptly become his prey. "How old... Age doesn't matter, not in these days I suppose. Ignore the question... Unless of course you want to answer?" Rambling, the lion had gone onto a splurge of rambling. Eye's, bright as can be shone in his mind then dipped, the sparkle was gone. He snarled deeper now, the thoughts were of his Mother. The Mother who'd died giving birth to him and his twin.

"Did he kill her? Huh??" A war path. A hunter and prey. The moment was gone for idle chitchat.

Dene looked at the carcass then looked and met eyes with the beast before him. The other was taunting, teasing, and trying to put Dene on edge. Thing was though, Dene was always on edge. He never seemed to get a break from his mind or thoughts. It scared him sometimes, thinking maybe he had been consumed by the world around him. What had he become? Would mother or father be proud of him for upholding the good side against evil? He didn’t know, and he was almost positive he would never find out. He just wanted to see his mother again..To see Cas again. But this was not the time for thought. He narrowed his eyes as the male spoke.

“I’d protect her even then. I may not be innocent but I don’t really think its called for to compare me to you.” He replied, his own venom in his words though his tone remained calm as did his body. He didn’t look frazzled, and it was because he had seen moments like this far too often with Dear around. But she wasn’t around now, and neither was Samm. It seemed Dene knew the right ways of getting himself in trouble without Samm to help him.

“I’ve seen enough to know that the God of Hate is everywhere. He infects the minds of others, poisoning them. Like you. Even if you’ve never met him he still poisons you by existing.” He growled, narrowing his eyes a nd lowering himself in a defensive stance.

When he spoke of Samm, the male growled.

“You do not speak of him.” He was protective of Samm.. He was all he had and he would be damned before he lost him.

Though the last sentence had Dene look confused and he stared as such.

“Did who kill her? Who!?”

Deadly calm, were the boys of whom Angra was verbally attacking. It didn't shake him, but it was a bit of a shock to see this. He smiled slowly, the eye's helped him find sanity and piece himself back together. "No one, not a soul." He stared coldly, emotions wiped clean from his eye's, there was something of a fire that became embers, an anger or fury that had gone to a temporary sleep. "Forunately for you, my meal is already dead.. as you've smartly pointed out you'd stand no chance to defend her, though I'm sure your folks would be proud of you for dying protecting another." Angra picked up his head, he was back to his cocky notions, he ignored the question. The obvious curiosity was there and Angra was shocked he'd gone so far, but something had snapped. He craved having someone else to blame for her death, his poor Mother. The lifeless eye's were glued in his mind forever.

"In fact, run along. Get back to whomever it is that cares about you." Angra turned his back on Dene, he was not into this anymore. He felt his pelt and hackles still raised, he was beyond angry, it was the burning hot feeling he had often had to fight off that kept it purely a war with himself to plead living as a part of himself as well. He sat now, facing the meal, a growl, surly and low rumbled deep in his throat. This was a warning. He knew that when the little one was full grown he might have some problems on his hand, his scent was lodged in the little defenders nose, but Angra would not try fighting him.

Dene was confused, but the maddening confusion that the older lion was placing on his shoulders had him shudder. He looked at the carcass once more. He prayed that the soul of the innocent life had gone to better places. Had not suffered for too long, because the thought broke his heart. But this was where Dene knew what he had to do. Separate himself from the dead. She was dead, he was not guilty of the death, and he had many more creatures he had saved. As much as his mind wanted him to feel guilt from this, he looked away and knew he couldn’t. He wasn’t sure what his parents would think about what it was he did, and he wasn’t sure he would tell them if he DID find them again.

It was obvious on his features he was reluctant to leave. Reluctant to leave that monster with the body he was mutilating. But there was nothing Dene could do and he was fully aware of that fact. He took a deep breath, preparing himself to be strong, and turned. He didn’t take but a few steps before he was in a full run. He had to get back to Samm and Dear, if only to have their company. He didn’t think he would tell anyone of this, this was going to be a secret he harbored, and he alone.