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He had to admit, he was going pretty deep this time. Typhoid's eyes had little problem seeing through the grit and grime that floated in the water around him, watching with vague interest as the corpses of fish bobbed above his head like some sort of target practice game. Everywhere in the pond was something dead, something decaying, something disgusting. A doe's half-eaten body remained partially submerged somewhere - he could still smell the blood, his stomach growling in response. Unfortunately, the crows and maggots and rats were making a meal of his earlier kill now, and as annoying as it all was... something had to feed the masses that followed his father.

And, well... him.

Young lungs were starting to hurt, and with a groan the foal turned towards the surface and the floating fish, his long tail propelling him upward all the faster. For as deep down as he was, he broke the surface pretty damn quick. Soaked and smirking, he looked towards one of the banks, watching as what looked like a sentient mass of gunk and debris moved slowly parallel to him. "Why don't you just take a bath while you're here? You stink worse than usual," the colt called to his father, muzzle wrinkling in disgust at the stench that lifted from his deranged old man in the heat. At least it wasn't the full blaze of summer yet. That was going to be a freaking nightmare.

Sure he liked the smell of death and decay, but even a killer had its limits, right?

Beelzebub himself was chuckling, pausing in his slow wander to look out towards his eldest son. Kelpi born, just like the tyke's mother. And just as nasty a temper, too. Somewhere, his second son, Anthrax, wandered with Reila, and in the back of his mind the demon knew he would need to find them both again soon. He did so hate to be apart from his "family" for too long~

"I hardly think this water would do much for me, Typhy dear," came the crackling response - the stallion's bones and joints creaking as he spoke, yellow eyes and diseased appearance all together giving the sense he might fall apart at the seams. But would he? Oh no, never! No no no~ to do so would just... be so boring, not fun at all.

What was fun was seeing how people liked to underestimate the filth ridden "old man."

He turned his gaze carefully to the body of the doe, noting one brown and white rat in particular - her darker companion tapped her on the head when he noticed Beelzebub was looking towards them, both quickly rising to their hind legs to await his words. "Have either of you see Pharaoh? It's unlike her to miss out on a meal."

Messina shrugged, teeth chattering in annoyance. "Bitchy buzzard not show up, Master. Hmph, think she too good for Little Master kill, I bet. No good buzzard... filthy bugger, icky bird brain..." she continued on in a huff, Fester only shrugging or nodding or chattering as well to help emphasis her points. The brown stallion seemed to gather the world and more from this gabber, though it was clear his son was eying them as a little snack rather than important information gatherers.

And as it was... there were more sounds echoing in young Typhoid's ears than the buzz of bugs or rodents. "Dad... someone's coming." He could hear hoofbeats... he could hear voices. "Don't suppose mom was going to be trying to find you, hm?"

He looked so hopeful in that moment, so childlike and vulnerable... Beelzebub smiled the sweetest of smiles to his dear eldest boy, responding in the most loving of voices: "I know for a fact your mother isn't coming to find you any time soon, so no."

The sight of that hope and potential joy shattering on his young face was just so precious~! Especially when he snarled like that. Aw~ so cute!

Sick eyes watched, maw uplifted in a smile towards whomever was approaching. He could smell the blood - the animals around him were hissing in anticipation of the newcomers. Especially those that bring the smell of blood. The metallic scent was light to him, faint as only one simply used to the smell would find it rather than a born hunter, like his son, for example. Typhoid seemed both curious and agitated, tail flicking and twisting under the water silently. The foal's head was jutting forward, sniffing the air, and Beelzebub could only let his smile grow in its twisted little way to hear the little one growl softly.

He didn't have to wonder for long what put his son at such unease. "My my, what do we have here? Kalona?" Clearly. Horns, wings, tail, cloven hooves... the whole nine yards, looking as self-important as any might expect someone from the breed would present themselves. The question was: did they have the right stuff to make them worth that stereotype?

Appearance wise... yes. But if there was one thing he knew, appearances meant little in the grand scheme of things. "How strange to see two of your kind traveling together."

Now, Typhoid was responding just a little differently than his father to this whole scene. The first whiff of blood in the air, and he'd bristled, tail lashing about underneath the water's surface as he ducked himself little by little deeper into the pond. Crows lifted themselves from the deer into the trees, squawking amongst themselves at some news he couldn't hear. Something was troubling them, even the rats seemed more eager than usual about whoever was coming.

And that scent... well, whatever they were, they smelled <******** equally weird apperances?

Wings? Horns? Oh hey, tails... He listened to his father's easy words, getting a few nice answers to his silent questions as he inspected the Kalonas from the "safety" of the water, with only his eyes, ears, and bits of his short mane peaking above the surface. Typhoid might have been cocky, but he sure as hell wasn't stupid. One of them smelt like blood. One of them was really tiny (kind of funny, actually) and looked like she believed herself the queen of all, and the other one... was big. And had flowers on him....

Kind of freaky as they both were, he suddenly wasn't sure which one deserved to be laughed at first.

"Who the hell are you calling a lesser, you ******** fairy?" Typhoid could be called brave, he could also be called stupid in his young years. ((Courage - 11%, Intelligence - 7%)) His head poked further out of the water, upper lip curled back in a vicious snarl, his tail lashing so violently that water was flung this way and that onto the banks. Never had he encountered such fantastic and deadly creatures that were the Kalona, and never could he possibly begin to fathom his blood was ripe with the tales of drama and perfect for bringing along this male's anger.

All he knew was this a*****e insulted him, and now he was pissed.

Perhaps in the coming years of his life, he would show he inherited his father's intelligence, learn there was more to his existence than hunting and killing and picking a fight with the first thing that ticked him off. Maybe. Maybe he might even learn to understand his heritage, understand the blood that ran through his veins as gifted to him by the brown stallion.

Beelzebub himself stood smiling, watching the two adept murderers from beneath the thick veil of his hair. Oh, they were perfect. Flawless, bred to showcase the highlights of their race. Truly wonderful sights to behold.

But they were cocky.

"Lessers? I must say, that is a laugh." And he was chuckling, the mass of rot and decay vibrating with mirth, his lips pulling back over his rather perfect teeth as he titled his head to the side. It seemed as if his head wasn't quite so connected to his neck when did this, the angle rather grotesque when coupled with that shinning smile. "From where I stand... you two are little more than pups." Around him, the ground began to bubble, festering boils of disgust and morbid sights as if it were the flesh of a plagued victim. Still the stallion grinned his disjointed grin at the Kalona, the crows screaming as they lifted away from him, rats racing to reach the safety brought only by distance. The air around him seemed to even shrink away, a putrid scent emanating from him.

Something shrieked - a small herd of deer bolted into the clearing, eyes wide and rolled into the backs of their heads. Blood ran from the sockets, dribbling from their noses and spraying from their mouths as they frothed and gurgled out cries of horror. Their coats displayed boils and large gashes of infections, each movement ripping apart their skin and displaying rotting muscle. They were steaming, bubbling and popping as if on fire from within. All that could be seen was a rapid sickness, devouring them as they neared the smiling devil.

Once they reached the point that they stood before him, each deer reared back, front legs clawing towards the heavens, before more blood spurted from their mouths, the illness taking its final crunch into their bodies and stripping them of their final breaths.

Just like that, four deer lay dead before him, and Beelzebub just let his smile grow, gaze lazily wandering from the beautiful mare to the powerful stallion. The air was calm, the ground still, and a silence settled over the creatures. "I would hardly call myself or my son a lesser... but maybe that's just me."

Typhoid had drawn himself out of the water at the bank nearest his father, though he, and the minions that served both, gave the fallen prey a large birth. Not even he was stupid enough to touch that which suffered that kind of death from his father. Nor was anything else, it seemed. He remained by the water, though a smirk darkened his features as he watched the two intruders. Though he might not possess the gifts of his sire, he sure as hell was a fan of his work. The question was... would these two be idiotic enough to try their luck against him or not?

Oh how he hoped they would. Typhy was suddenly rather curious how a brute and a beauty would react to their bodies festering with such disease and rot as those deer....