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In a combative, presumptuous mood, Drathir approached his father's usual spot from a different angle then he normally did. Perhaps it was the anger in him, the feeling of injustice and being mislead, for he was unconciously approaching from the blind spot with squite the agitated swagger. So Verge had lied to him... had made him believe that the approval he so strong and desperately sought when, in fact, it was just the parental cooing to a secondary son. What would he say...? Mind whirled as he thought through his words, sharp and clear to the point they would be.

Vergil was currently resting...the great lion lying down upon a rock that was still vaguely warm from the sun beating down upon it all day. Blue eyes were half-lidded in a deceptively peaceful look, though he was, as always, well-aware of his surroundings. The end of his tail twitched, like a cat contemplating future mischief, and his ears swiveled every so often, monitoring the area. He vaguely sensed another presence, but this deep into the pridelands, he knew it was likely no threat, and if it was, he feared it not a whit. Hell, at this point in time, a threat would be deliciously welcomed to take his mind off of the many things that chased each other around his brainspace. If only...

"Father." He spoke as he came up behind the other, voice sharp and confident, with not just a little bit of suspicion. Coughing, he cleared his throat as if to garner attention and spoke again, "Father. You lied to me. Do not compliment my skills when you would rather lavish your attention on darling Amin. What does he have that I don't?" Tossing his adolescent, he glowered at Verge'lian.

Very slowly, he raised his head, eyes having opened when the other began to speak. Well then, it seemed like someone was bearing a grudge...heh, more of the family genes than he'd given the boy credit for. "Lied to you?" He replied calmly, the question more rhetorical than anything. "I did not lie, Drathir...I have spoken only the truth to you. What is this...apparent lie that I have spoken?" It was blunt, and not particularly friendly either. Verge tended to get rather icy in manner when someone was angry...it was just...easier.

"Lie by omission. Lie by implying one thing and meaning another, by having a plan the entire time without insomuch as even considering the efforts of others." Lifting head high, the young male met his father's gaze and stood firm, letting the cool gaze wash over him only to fuel his righteous anger. "Answer the question, Father. That's all I care about. Why do you favour him so?" It seemed Drathir was more like his father then he thought for his words were just as blunt, and far from friendly.

He snorted faintly at that, shaking his head, "A plan? You mistake me. What know you of plans, Drathir? I do not scheme and plot...such are trifles, more an inclination of Morifaer's lot than our own." Those eyes narrowed, disliking the tone of voice, the obvious challenge to his authority. To be called a liar rankled, made him a touch wrathful. "I favor my children, that much is true, but I hold neither you nor Aminilipa in higher regard than the other. Over one or two of your siblings, perhaps, but not over the other. You are a simpleton to think such." He knew that Drathir was no longer a child...and as such, Verge'lian would not mince his words.

"Enough to know Amin thinks highly of himself, a claim backed by your very own actions. He need not ask for your attention, it seems, but gathers it without thought." Drathir rumbled, also shaking his head, "While your other son must beg a moment or else face you down for a chance to speak." He seemed rooted to the spot, unmoving and bold. "No, not a simpleton. Nor a weakling nor an emotional, needy child. You, father, would see Aminilipa to the throne of the Aran'shale. That is your plan." He snorted, "To think... I wished to emulate you, and walk in your footsteps... to be proud I bear the markings you do. Bah. That path was never an option, was it? Dear, dear Amin had caught your eye already and you would do no more then mislead me." His eyes narrowed.

"Amin thinks highly of himself because he possesses confidence..." Verge replied easily, thoughts fluttering back to his own brother...the one he'd lost because of his own refusal to listen. Heh...it seemed a natural tendency of this family to butt heads. "You need not beg me. You simply did not seek me out as did Amin." Not that he favored Amin any greater for it...Amin had just been particularly persistent. "The path is an option to all who are willing to work for it. Still it is a possibility for you, but if you desire to walk elsewhere...to no longer chase my back, that is none of my concern." To be unfeeling...or at least to pretend so, it was an old habit.

"I do not lack confidence. Instead, I have the wisdom to know there are better things you can do with your time, Aran'shale. These lands are not fool proof, however strong we are, and vigilance is what will ensure our stronghold." Gaze turned icy as Verge continued, the very demeanour of Drathir growing stiff, cold... sharp. "None of your concern? I must kiss your tail and play the prince to gain your favour? You do not care." Something snapped in Drathir, then, as the one thing that gave him direction slipped from out between his paws and he growled. When he spoke, his tone was final, unrelenting, and distant, "You will see, Verge'lian, that perhaps you should have cared."

Without another word, he turned his back on Verge and walked away... in more sense then one.

'You do not care...' The words reverberated harshly through the Aran'shale's mind, seeming to be echoes...ghosts brought from his own past, his own lips. It jarred something within him, to realize that this son of his had inherited that frigidity that came with anger, with supposed wrongs. This scene reminded him far too much of his own youth...the foolish mistakes that he'd made. "And you too, will learn..." He murmured softly, hoping that the lessons Drathir was to learn were not so very harsh as the ones that had made Verge a ruler alone.

With Verge'lian's words spiralling in circles about his mind, the prince found himself drifting aimlessly through the pridelands. His father didn't care. Had he ever cared at all? This cold feeling that had gripped him foreign and yet comforting for it served as a barrier between his emotions and his world, gave a bit of breathing room. For those few who he encountered, he offered only gruff greetings or distracted nods. His whole life.... his whole entire life had been built around not the pursuit of glory but of approval. Of Verge's approval. Now, he saw, that was naught but a farce - a hollow goal he could never hope to achieve. Iartuupe thought him weak and unfit, his father couldn't even care to have an opinion.

Snorting, Drathir flopped onto a rock outcrop near the volcano and set to watching it as assumptions chased facts around his mind so many times they became indistinguishable.

Verge'lian did not care.

It was wound he wasn't sure would heal... one that left him aching in ways that only made him want to rage against the world entire. Roaring then, as loudly and fiercely as he could muster, Drathir dug his claws into the rocks and dirt, as if straining to pierce the heart of the ground beneath.

Damn Verge'lian.

Morifaer had discovered that he had nothing better to do this evening than to roam his own lands. It wasn't a bad pastime, really, but was, instead, distinctly boring just now. Morifaer was, however, easily bored. He'd had a slew of interesting days lately, what with his new pet, and the enchanting little lass Kasdeya. Those, yes, they were quite interesting.

Blue eyes espied then, the sulking form of one of Verge's younger sons. Ah, how interesting...What on earth could be plaguing the mind of Silin'Drathir? Of course Morifaer knew the names of all of the Aran'shale's children, it was his business to know, to meddle, even into affairs that did not belong to him. Alighting some yards away, as Morifaer had been in the air... he then carefully sauntered his way towards the younger lion. "Ah, good evening then, my good young fellow..." He rumbled softly, "You seem to have something weighty on your mind." Just casually approach the subject, as any onlooker might, never mind that he himself was a god.

Drathir glanced up when someone greeted him. Brave soul, that. The young adult, however, did a double take when he found he'd been greeted by one of their gods. The only one bold enough to show his face. Drathir rumbled at that thought. Such a god, Sparda was, to never even reveal himself to those sided with him. Perhaps he too didn't care.

It took much effort to draw some of the venom and frost from his voice as he replied a few moments later, "Greetings. Not something but somethings, Lord. Do you wish something of me?"

Even in the presence of Mori, he couldn't bring himself to stand and properly address the other. It would be better to be alone, perhaps the god would see that desire and kindly heed it.

Morifaer sat down before the other, appearing not too anxious, but neither disinterested in the other's affairs. With a slight smile, he tilted his head to one side, pointed ears flickering forward. "Do I wish something? Not particularly, today at least. You might, perhaps, tell me what is on your mind? I might be able to help, or at least, it might make you feel better."

The large god gestured towards the other, "You seem tense...even, I daresay, angry..." He recognized the signs, had come into contact with Verge himself to understand when one of the Sparda clan was angry.

"Hmph." Drathir scoffed, shaking his head, "Unless you can make creatures care and approval abound then I daresay that even you, Lord, cannot help me. These are family troubles and need not worry the divine." Drathir eyed Morifaer for a moment before, "Angry? For a start, yes." Noncommittal he was, thought he answered the question posed with as much cordiality as he could muster.

"Family?" Ah, that likely meant Verge'lian. Drathir was a young heir, and adolescents were testy...royal ones all the more so. "For what reason then, does approval lack? Are not you and your siblings quite industrious? I have, for some time, been watching your efforts, after all...a shame none of my own children turned out half so well..." He snorted, slightly irritable. Yes...wayward, all of them thus far, or gone beyond his grasp. But if Verge'lian, in his oh so very great wisdom had alienated one of his promising sons, then Morifaer hadn't the slightest bit of guilt on his conscience for stepping in and taking up the slack.

Drathir actually laughed at that, a dry, mirthless sound that hinted at bitter epiphanies, "I had thought thuslessly as well. And it seems you are a far greater watcher then my father, Lord. It should be obvious, it really should." The irritable prince glanced back in the direction of the den sites, "The dear, wise Aran'shale cares not a whit for the things around him. Cares not for the aspirations of his heirs and even less for the sons beyond the title."

He sighed and flicked his tail, "I had hoped to follow him, someday. Honour him, and revenge myself upon Iartuupe. Such a farce."

"I have...slowly come to my own conclusion on the subject of our dear Aran'shales..." Morifaer mused, "Verge'lian...is too cold a creature to sympathize well with his subjects, or even with his family, you know...well of course you know, I'm sorry." He smiled faintly, playing the perfect confidante and gentleman for now, as he generally did when he wanted something.

"Silin'Drathir...you have aspirations still, do you not? Or were they entirely dependent on another creature who proved to be uncaring?" It was probing, trying to let the other arrive at a conclusion of his own. It might take a while to guide him there, true, but now...if he could make this one his tool, then Drathir would not be the loose cannon, the insane buffoon that Iar had proven to be.

His eyes narrowed though he said nothing, far from stupid and witty enough to recognize that deliberate prod. "Of course."

The Prince glanced up at Mori, gauging him for a long moment before replying, "I wished to follow my father's footsteps to the throne, I had wanted to lead our pride into glory and might. The weak, as they say, shall fall before our strength." Much devoted to the pride and its beliefs, it wasn't difficult to believe the will behind the words, however naive they might be. "But with his... backing of Amin, it removes me from the equation utterly and I will not contest my brother's claim to it. Not if my father wishes it be so. I want nothing further to do with him, he wishes not to care? Neither will I."

"And the strong, the intelligent...must persevere, Silin'Drathir. If one door shuts, then another opens. Simply because your father does not recognize you does not mean that you must let your ambition fade." Morifaer sighed heavily, "I myself, by my own decision, have no desire to rule the pride as the Aran'shale must. I guide and instruct...yes...but the Aran'shale must be a wise, strong creature. But know this...both god and mortal are capable of making mistakes. I, myself...have made a mistake or three. If you care not to follow in your sire's footsteps then do not be foolish enough to let your noble desires fade. Simply find your own path to strength." Goodness but this young lion was ripe for the picking...even if Morifaer could not make him an Aran'shale, then it would be glorious to spite Verge'lian, by leading his son further away from him.

Drathir tilted his head, listening curiously. What Morifaer had to say was wise... it held a ring truth that attracted the young lion. He shook his head, "And my first mistake was believing in my father. A curse upon them both then, Iartuupe and Verge'lian. I have done nothing but trained and prepared and lived by our pride's edicts." Petulance wormed its way into his speech, tempted by the god's subtle, enticing comments. "You think... you think my desires are noble?" He asked suddenly, gaze fixing upon the god as he smirked, amused that he should find support in the highest power of the pride. If the Gods favoured him, why not Verge?

Slowly, Morifaer inclined his head in affirmation. "I do indeed... I know well that Iartuupte has committed many slights against others of the sort that I cannot overlook. If you have an issue to...take up...against my Aran'shale, I fear that I must encourage that desire...he has brought such upon himself. Verge'lian was a fool to throw you away...you are young yet, but you show determination and promise. If you flourish, you become an asset to the demons, something for the entire pride to be proud of, and not only that, but you will possess a confidence that you yourself have earned. I see no reason not to encourage these desires of yours." Of course..he was naturally giving advice to a younger, mentoring...not trying to turn him into a tool to achieve his ends...never, why would he do that? Oh my, but he had to hold back the fiendish grin that wished to creep onto his dark maw.

"Once I came of age, I wished to challenge him to duel. Judged and witnessed as required." He murmured, speaking hopefully as his tone changed slowly from distant to trusting. He winced when Mori said it so bluntly... he'd been thrown away... A moment's thought and he nodded at that, "That's right... thrown away. I do have promise, regardless of what he says... what anyone says." All the little insecurities within were being salved, his ego bouyed on compliment after compliment and he would not question the wisdom of their god. "You... you would mentor me, then, Lord?" The confidence had crept back into his voice, though the question held that certain ring of respectful request that made it both a question and a statement.

Mori need not worry about his own grin, for a matching would was spreading across Drathir's face. Where before he had no allies, now it seemed he had one - and the most important one to the demons. How truly fortunate.

Morifaer canted head to one side then, as if the thought had just struck him the moment that Drathir had mentioned it, and slowly, he allowed himself a bit of a smile. "If you so wish it." He replied amiably, "I would not be adverse to taking you under my wing...someone, at least, needs to see your potential realize. If Verge'lian is too much a fool to do it, this will be one mistake that I will not make." Another nod to the other, acknowledgement of the other. Excellent, this was proceeding precisely as planned, it would be a simple step...from here to there...to intensify Drathir's enmity with Iartuupe...to make this youth the next Aran'shale.

".... I thank you." Drathir dipped into a deep bow, then, truly and honestly grateful. His desperate desire for approval and his wish to humiliate Iartuupe would both be accomplished, so Mori had said. Drathir smiled, genially, anxious for the long road ahead.

An ally at last.