#the dorcean brothers

[dracocheesecake]

...Do you think, in Besteel's last moments, he thought of Redimus? Did he think that he had failed, and his brother would be imprisoned forever because of him? Did he never know that his brother had been freed? Did Redimus never know what Besteel had been willing to do for him, and why he did what he did?

[ladyanaconda]

Marakeen and Redimus Headcanons

They first met when Redimus accompanied Besteel (now the chieftain of their tribe) on a diplomatic trip to Nalavega, the main village of the sea Dorceans. 

Redimus was apprehensive to talk to her, given he hadn’t had any good experiences with love before (cough Irkana cough). Eventually, Besteel gave him a little push—literally into the sea. Marakeen came to Redimus’s aid.

They kept in touch via letters, though occasionally Besteel would send Redimus to Nalavega on diplomatic duties AKA see his girlfriend.

Marakeen taught Redimus how to swim and how to operate a fishing sailboat. He was surprisingly good at it, though he still didn’t like getting wet.

Unlike the females in the forest tribes, Marakeen didn’t know about her brother-in-law’s reputation other than his recent appointment as the new chieftain of the An’rak Tribe. As such, her interest in Redimus was genuine. 

Marakeen’s parents initially had reservations about her being courted by a forest Dorcean. However, Redimus’s gentleness and kind nature won them over. His father-in-law eventually becomes the father-like figure he wished he could’ve had growing up.

They proposed at the same time. They secretly crafted clothing for the other, as customary amongst sea Dorceans—though Redimus’s piece was a bit clumsily made due to his lack of experience crafting with seaweed and seashells. 

Besteel, Fayluna, Eva Nine, Rovender, and Redimus’s old beaming crew were invited to their wedding. Besteel was the equivalent of a ‘best man,’ and Redimus got a little revenge by pushing him into the water. 

After the wedding, Redimus moved to Nalavega and got a job as the village’s lightkeeper, which didn’t require swimming. 

The one thing Redimus didn’t like about his mate was that Marakeen tended to add too much salt to her dishes, a common practice amongst her people. Needless to say Besteel loves his sister-in-law's cooking in contrast.

Eventually, they had three children: Selkie, the oldest daughter, and twins Thalyss and Merrow. Selkie was a hybrid of forest and sea traits, while the twins were forest and sea Dorceans, respectively.

Fayluna loves playing with her cousins despite being a few years older by then.

[dracocheesecake]

I imagine Besteel and Redimus' relationship was always something like this:

Just a typical sibling relationship, constantly wrestling and beating each other up and insulting each other for no good reason- and then laughing it off and going back to whatever they were doing before hand as if nothing happened (and of course there was a lot of angst and toxicity but that's for another post).

[dracocheesecake]

Redimus sneaking a nom in while Besteel isn't paying attention X'D

[dracocheesecake]

I managed to finish something after five eons.

Summary: From an AU where Besteel survived to meet his nieces. His first time meeting them. Also involves some headcanons and oc x canon.

Besteel glimpsed into the cradle and then sniffed loudly. “This is them?” He asked, gruff.

Redimus withheld a growl. He gently reached in, pulling a blanket a little closer around the two little balls of fluff inside the egg-shaped nest. “My daughters. Your nieces, yes,” he confirmed.

“Females? Rare. I’m sure she’s happy.”

Besteel then glanced at him with a more mischievous and all too knowing smirk. “So you and that Snowpelt-”

“Her name is Doshika…and yes.”

“Hmph. Of course only a Snowpelt would take you. Still, seems they took more after the Grey side- for better or worse we still have to see.”

Redimus had to bite his tongue to keep from saying the explicit things he wanted to scream at him.

“They-”

“What are their names?”

Redimus sighed. “Dorcy-”

“Dorcy?” Besteel looked at his brother in disbelief. “Dorcy? You would be that cruel to your own eyas? How could you name a child something that horrible?”

“Eva Nine chose that name. The honor-”

Besteel snorted suddenly. “Of course she did. Probably as an act of vengeance against me, no doubt. Well, nothing can be done about that. Poor thing.”

He shook his head and poked the other one. “But now I'm worried for this one. What awful name did you pick out for her?”

Here Redimus paused. He almost smiled, but immediately squashed it down.

“...Her name is Besteen.”

Besteel froze. “…You named her after me?” His voice and expression had gone soft.

Redimus nodded. For a moment, he felt all the building anger and animosity leave his body, and he remembered why he had wanted to invite his brother over. Maybe this wasn't a mistake after all-

“Well,” Besteel said, suddenly assuming his gruff tone from before, “that's lucky for her. And now I know which of them is the better.”

Redimus felt his claws twitching. “Both,” he said, almost a growl, “of my children are equal to me.”

Besteel scoffed and ignored him, sniffing at the eyasses again. The babies shuffled a little, peering up at this other Dorcean that looked like their sire, but with two eyes instead of one, and different markings. Dorcy, ever the more enterprising, sat up and groped for his nose. Besteel pulled away before her tiny talons could touch him, snorting. The eyas fell back into the blankets, startled by the sudden puff of breath in her face.

“Hmph. They don’t seem so impressive,” he said. “The way you made it sound in your message, I thought they would have each killed a full grown Slicksharp already. Wasn’t worth the trip- even if one of them got my namesake.”

Redimus felt his blood start to near the boiling point; oh, no, it was already there, and boiling well over. It was a miracle he was still able to restrain himself.

“You can leave whenever you want,” he growled through his teeth.

“No,” Besteel sniffed, “not just yet. I have a gift for them.”

From one of his satchels he pulled out two blue stuffed water bears,with rubber limbs for chewing. He took one in each primary hand, and placed them before the eyasses.

“Beastses for my nieces,” he said.

Dorcy and Besteen blinked and sniffed at the new toys, processing what they were. Seeing as it didn't smell like food, Besteen took a cautious nibble of one of the limbs. Dorcy took hers and immediately clung to it, chomping down as hard as she could on its shoulder. Besteen rubbed her face against the soft belly of hers.

Both sisters hugged the stuffed water bears, purring and chirping between nibbles and bites. Redimus felt his blood pressure lowering. Again, that anger seeped from his muscles. He sighed.

“...Thank you,” he said.

“It's nothing,” Besteel said, again in softer tones as he watched the babies play with their new toys. “Just something for them to teethe on. Will make it a little easier on you, not having to deal with so many screaming fits…and, in a way, it's a little celebration present.”

Redimus blinked at him. “Celebration present? Celebrating what?”

“The fact they're not as ugly as you,” Besteel said, smirking.

Redimus snorted. A smile was forming again. “Something we can both agree on.”

Now Besteel's expression was one of concern. “What? You're just going to take that from me?”

“On my own account, yes,” Redimus said. “But, for what you said about my eyasses…”

He punched Besteel in the face. He went stumbling back towards the far wall before he steadied himself against it. Both brothers froze for a moment, watching to ensure the babies weren't disturbed; they were too absorbed in their new toys to notice. Redimus turned and pointed at his brother.

“Outside. Now.”

Besteel grinned. “You don't want your eyasses to watch me destroy you?”

“I don't want to put you-shaped holes in the walls of my new house. Outside, now.”

[dracocheesecake]

Random Dorcean Twin Headcanons:

Besteel definitely tried to eat Redimus several times when they were babies. He wasn't lacking in food, he just wanted to. Their father would turn around, turn back around, and baby Besteel would be chowing down on some part of Redimus or other while baby Redimus would wait calmly to be rescued.

[dracocheesecake]

Redimus would be a girl dad I can't explain it he just would be. In my heart sometime after the ending of book 3 he has twin daughters he cherishes more than life itself.

[dracocheesecake]

Taste of Blood

Summary: A peek into a time from Besteel and Redimus' past, when they were being raised by their father in the Wandering Forest.

Notes: Based on my own headcanons, including a four-year-old Dorcean eyas being the equivalent of a seven- or eight-year-old human.

Warnings: Child abuse, some animal gore, blood and injury.

Redimus stalked his prey through the underbrush, keeping low and in the shadows, his steps nearly silent; even against the layers of decaying leaves, damp earth, moss, and twigs, his claws didn’t betray his presence to his quarry. He could smell its smelly, fuzzy scent, could feel the electric flow of its life tingling in his nose, and the warmth of its blood rushing through its veins. 

He was four years old, and already an accomplished hunter. He needed to be. There was no telling when their father would be back- sometimes he could be gone for weeks on hunting expeditions, and during that time he and his brother Besteel had to look after themselves. That meant finding their own food. 

His quarry was drinking from a small creek- it was a lorelmoth, a medium sized furry creature that scurried on the forest floor on six speedy legs, and sensed the air using two feathery feelers atop its head. This specimen was a light green color, with pink feelers and underbelly. Its proboscis unfurled, dipping for a drink. Its bulbous bottle green eyes stared seemingly vacuously ahead- but Redimus knew better than to be fooled, he could sense its wariness; his only chance of catching this would be to be fast- and careful. 

He crept closer…stopped. The feelers twitched, then stilled again. He crept closer…the feelers twitched again…he paused. Then, as the feelers settled, just as its wariness became contentment, he pounced. His weight snapped its spine, and in a second after his jaws had snapped its neck. 

Redimus felt the creature's life leave it, and that strange, heavy feeling of guilt sunk in his stomach- but he had done it quick and painless and clean, and he knew he had only done it to feed himself; it was necessary to his survival. It was just perpetuation of the cycle of nature; even a four year old eyas knew that. 

Still, though he knew this, the guilt was there. Redimus sat with his kill, one talon gingerly stroking the fur as it grew slowly cold. Silently in his heart he thanked it for its life, thanked it for feeding him. Then his stomach growled, and he forgot both guilt and propriety. 

The eyas dragged it back to his father’s camp and laid it before himself. He was about to tear into the belly of his kill, his mouth watering, stomach growling in anticipation of the rich, tasty meat within- then he detected something warm coming from his right, and an electrical twinge of life rapidly closing in. Redimus whipped his head around just in time to watch his brother barrel towards him. 

Besteel tackled him, and they went rolling, biting and wrestling. Besteel wasn’t much bigger than his brother, nor that much stronger, but he had had the advantage of surprise, and he was on top of Redimus in an instant, pinning him down. Redimus didn't care at first; he usually didn’t win these games, and he was too hungry at the moment. He gave up struggling with a sigh. 

But apparently it wasn’t just a quick win that Besteel craved. He sat on his brother like a throne and began to help himself to the choice bits of his kill. Redimus squirmed under him. 

“No! That'st mine!” 

Besteel chuckled meanly, and then gulped down a particularly rich, fatty organ with a smug expression. An even more smug, satisfied hum followed. Redimus clawed at the forest floor, leaving deep gouges in the earth. 

“Thtop!” 

His brother ignored him. In each clawed hand, he began scooping out tender, fresh hunks of meat and dropping them in his mouth. Redimus growled and managed to get his legs under him again, then bucked his brother off his back. He tackled him, and the two went rolling across the forest floor, smearing green blood from the kill everywhere. Redimus punched Besteel’s face, while Besteel clawed and kicked at him, trying to throw him off. They both snarled and snapped at one another, shouting curses and insults. 

Besteel got a punch in, hitting Redimus in the jaw, and there was the taste of his own blood in his mouth. He spat, but was too angry to feel the pain- in fact, it only made him angrier. He bit down on his brother’s shoulder, claws digging into his belly. Besteel cried out and rolled, and they both landed on the carcass, their struggle sending offal everywhere. 

They weren’t paying attention to anything else but the fight at that point- they were both scratched up and bloody, and not just with their own violet blood. They were covered in the remains of Redimus’ prey- but neither of them cared at the moment. They were tired, but still angry, and still tightly clinging to each other, biting and snapping. 

So embroiled in their fight, they hadn’t noticed that their father had returned, until he shouted and picked them up, tearing them from each other. Both brothers cringed away, shaking and shivering from his glare. 

Keest had them both by the scruff. “I go out hunting for a week,” he growled, “and this is what I return to? Are you still eyasses, that I have to worry about you making a mess of my camp? What’s wrong with you? What happened?” 

Both of the boys curled in on themselves at his harsh tone, shaking. Besteel held out two of his talons. 

“We were just playing, father,” he said. 

Keest cast a doubtful eye towards the guts spilled everywhere and the splashes of blood. 

“Doesn’t look like it. And didn't sound like it, either, with those curses you were both spewing at each other. You were fighting over this prey, weren’t you? What happened?” 

He turned his glare on Redimus. “Who’s kill is this?” 

Redimus swallowed. Father always sounded so angry, even when he was just asking a question. His fear made his tongue feel thick, and his voice went higher and more tremulous. 

“...It..it wast mi-minest, thire-” 

Keest bore his teeth. “What? It was whose? Speak up! Answer me.” 

His harsh tone only made Redimus more nervous, and he swallowed, shaking in his father’s grasp. He wrung his little talons and squirmed slightly in his grip. 

“...Mine-mines, th-th-th-daddy-” 

Keest narrowed his eyes. Redimus immediately regretted the slip of tongue, and snapped his beak shut. He was shaking even more, now. Keest tilted his head towards him and cupped his ear with a free talon, then held him a little closer. 

“What was that? Stop mumbling. Speak clearly, with respect. Quit talking like a baby.” 

“His mouth is gummed up with blood, Sire-” Besteel was saying, but Keest cut him off with a snort. 

“Doesn’t matter. He can speak clearly. Isn’t that right, Redimus?” 

Redimus shrank away. His teeth were chattering. Sobs were beginning to build up in his chest, but he held them back so that it hurt. He tried to wet his drying mouth. 

“I-I’m sorry…Sire.” 

Keest nodded and pulled away. “That’s better. Don’t speak to me like that again. I am your father, and you’re too old to be talking like that. Let’s try again. Is this your kill?” 

Redimus looked at Besteel. He was glaring at him, but it only made Redimus remember their fight from before, and he was angry all over again. He nodded. 

“Yest-Yes.” He said, louder and more succinct. One of his suppressed sobs escaped as a hiccup. He had no choice but to suppress them; who knew what his father would do if he actually cried now. 

Keest hummed. “And then Besteel came and tried to take it from you? Is that right?” 

“Y-yest- Correct, Sire.” 

Keest nodded. He turned to Besteel and then another talon came up, flicking him on the thin, tender skin on the bridge of his nose. Besteel yelped and covered his face. His father shook him. 

“Never take another hunter’s kill! There’s no honor in that. If you can’t kill for yourself, then go hungry. I know I taught you better.” He scoffed and put them both down. He looked between them for a moment, sighed, and ran a talon down his face. 

“...I’m already exhausted, dealing with you.” He grumbled. Both Redimus and Besteel bowed their heads. Redimus felt Besteel stomp on one of his back feet, and he held back a hiss- but not before getting him back. They heard their father grunt, and immediately looked up. Keest was dragging a few heavy sacks over- sacks that smelled like blood and musky animal hides. 

“Redimus, come help me with this butchering,” he said. “I’ve caught a lot of things, and I need help dressing the meat and tanning hides. Besteel, you clean up this mess.” 

“Yes, Sire.” 

Redimus hiccuped. “Y-yesh, thire-” 

Keest’s head whipped towards him. His fur bristled. “Redimus,” he growled, “I swear by the Rings Above, if you don’t stop that temak baby talk-” 

“His mouth’s still all gummed up, father,” Besteel said quickly. “I hit him really hard, and I think I knocked out a few of his teeth.” 

Keest was still glaring at Redimus, but he relaxed some. “Oh?” 

“Yes, Sire,” Besteel said. Keest smacked him on the back of the head. Besteel yelped again and flinched, covering his head with his main pair of arms. 

“Don’t hurt your brother that badly,” their father said. “You’re lucky our teeth always grow back, or I would have knocked out a few of yours. Both of you are disappointing me today.” 

He slung the sacks over his shoulders and tossed his head towards a rock formation in the woods, a distance away from their camp. “Come on, Redimus.” 

Redimus always thought of it as Butcher’s Boulder, because that was always where Keest took their meat to be cut up, dressed, and salted. The turnfins were there, perched above the flat, colorful stone stained with kaleidoscopic hues of blood from every kind of creature. Keest shooed them off and used a bucket of water and a rag to slough off everything, cleaning it before they prepared his kills. 

Redimus pulled a few of the carcasses from the bag, passing them to his father. He felt a vibration, an electric current, and turned to see that his father was working the carver. It was a smaller instrument than the long, lance-like apparatus usually used for the larger kills- this one only needed a single talon to operate, a small trigger on its ivory pen-shaped body, a cord at its end that led into a small charging pack strapped to his upper arm. The tip was pointed, and with each charge a carefully controlled electric current sliced through the meat. Keest peeled the skin off the dead animal and then flayed it, taking out organs and setting them aside. 

He hummed and sang to himself as he worked. Redimus took the skins, taking them aside, laying them flat, then salting the flesh side. He then rolled them up and set them in a crevice between two boulders to drain safe from animals. Blood pooled in his mouth, and he spat every now and then. During one of these back-and-forth trips, as he reached for another skin, his father grabbed him. 

Redimus froze as Keest opened his mouth, one talon holding the top jaw and another the bottom. Redimus stilled himself, every muscle going taut. His father examined his teeth, then snorted. 

“Gabu,” he murmured, “he really did knock some of them out.” 

Another claw reached in, poking three still bleeding gaps in Redimus’ gums where three sharp teeth used to be. It took everything in his power to not flinch or gag or cry out in pain. Keest released him, but held Redimus’ chin. Redimus didn’t look him in the eyes, not wanting to see the disappointment there; it seemed to Redimus his father always looked disappointed in him- that, or angry. He could not remember a time when he looked at him any differently. The way he looked at Besteel: with pride, with love. 

His jaw felt sore, and his gums hurt even worse than they had before, a fresh bout of blood pooling in his mouth. Redimus swallowed it. 

“Why did you let Besteel do that to you?” Keest asked. “It was your kill, wasn’t it? You should have fought harder. Don’t let him push you around.” 

The blood was pooling in his mouth again, and again he had to swallow it. “...I did fight him. I don’t want him to puth-push me around.” 

“Then act like it. If Besteel ever tries that again, pay him back the favor and knock some of his teeth out; if you let your brother get comfortable with bullying you, everyone will. You’re already enough of an embarrassment to me as is. At least stand up for yourself.”  

He released Redimus’ chin, and Redimus took the opportunity to spit to the side. Keest snorted. “And go rinse your mouth out.” 

Redimus walked over to the stream, meditating on his father’s hypocrisy; he knew for a fact that if it had been the other way around, had he been the one to steal Besteel’s kill, to knock his teeth out, Keest would have punished him much more severely; Besteel was (as his brother adored pointing out) the favorite, and Redimus was at least smart enough to know it. 

He sat by the lichen-covered stream bed, hiccupping and sniffling. He spat blood into the water, watching the inky violet plume flow away. It helped to calm him for a moment, and then he had a few swallows of water. It was cold, and helped to clean his mouth and close the bleeding holes in his gums- and it numbed some of the pain, too. 

After another sip and a few more breaths to calm his hiccups, he went back to the butchering stone. His father had a bunch of carved meat beside him, and Redimus took this, sorting the cuts into piles: some for preserving, some for dinner tonight, and the most inedible parts (mere scraps, Keest wasted nothing) for bait. 

They said nothing the entire time they worked, and Redimus preferred it that way. Usually when Keest did say anything during these sessions it was just to chastise and snap at him for making a mistake. So today, either he was doing the job right or his father was too tired from his trip to bother with him. 

Redimus salted some of the meat and began sorting everything into containers. Everything now dressed, sorted, and packed, they could clean up and head back to camp. Redimus picked up as many containers as he could safely carry. Then his father stopped him.

Keest had rested the palm of one of his talons on Redimus’ head. It was one of his lower ones, and covered his entire skull and even part of his neck. The eyas paused, fur bristling, shocked at the touch. He looked up at him. Keest was frowning, but it wasn’t the familiar lines of anger or disappointment etched into his face. Redimus didn’t know what to make of it. 

“I know I’m hard on you,” his father said. “But I have to be. You need to be strong if you’re going to survive in this world. I know I don’t have to worry about Besteel, he’s strong enough already, but you…I don’t know what to think.” 

Redimus looked down at the stack of containers in his talons. Again, his chest began to hurt from his suppressed sobs. He hiccupped. He heard his father snort. 

“That’s what I mean right there. Besteel doesn’t go around sniffling like a whipped darg when I correct him. Toughen up.” 

Redimus sniffed one last time and took a long inhale, once again pushing his sobs far, far down. He trembled, only a little, from the effort. 

“...Yes, thire.” 

A hard, sharp smack turned the eyas’ head and almost made him drop the containers he held. Tears of pain welled in his eyes, but he still had enough sense left to blink them away. A stinging pain in his mouth and a coppery taste again cleared his mind blank. He stared straight ahead.

“Stop talking like a baby. That’s the last time I’m warning you. Now come on, it’s getting dark, and I’m sure you’re hungry after Besteel took your kill.” 

[dracocheesecake]

A Week To Be A Dorcean

The eyasses crawled out of the open front door of their house and scurried across one of the bridges that spanned the expanse of the nest-shaped city. Halcyonus fishermen waved at them as the little balls of fluff dodged and weaved their way around their long backward-bending legs, and the occasional human stopped to watch them; young Dorceans were a rare sight, especially as they belonged to one of the only Dorceans in all of Lacus: the Dorcean they were on their way to see now.

Disturbed turnfins flew away as they ran onto another rope bridge, making it sway underneath them. They hopped off of this onto one of the lower levels of the city, then rushed down the pathway, again weaving their way past carts and the market people, spilled goods and coils of ropes. There was an archway leading into the main tower on which the city stood. They rushed down the spiral stairs, squeaking and chittering to each other excitedly, and then turned out another archway that led onto a wide pier leading between this city-tower and another. More fishermen were out with their turnfins and nets and fishing poles, bringing in fresh catches for the day; their father would be among them.

Not seeing him on the pier, they went down a set of stairs leading to another one, lower on the water and further out from the first. Boats were tied here, as well as crates full of goods and supplies for trading across the lake in Solas. The eyasses looked around, searching for a familiar shape. Dorcy squeaked and poked her sister, and then pointed towards the distant end of the pier, where, past a few stalls and piles of cargo, could be seen the familiar gray back with spots and stripes. Besteen let out a small cry of excitement, and the two began to barrel towards him.

As they approached, another surprise greeted them: their father moved a little, and they could see that he was talking to another Dorcean: his brother, their uncle Besteel. Both eyasses squeaked in excitement and increased their pace.

But as they came closer, weaving their way between massive piles of crates, they realized something was wrong. Besteen paused, then turned and looked at her sister. Dorcy tilted her head, and then she heard it too: muffled arguing. They crept closer, and the voices grew louder, and then they knew for certain that Uncle Besteel and their father were fighting again. They hid behind a pile of crates, peeking around the corner to watch and listen.

The brothers had clearly chosen this spot because it was somewhat private, with the large piles of crates concealing them from watchful eyes, and the crowded, busy sounds all around them helped to dull the conversation- an apparently heated one. Redimus had a large net between two of his talons, giving him an appearance of a giant spider as his other claws worked to weave and repair it. He was glaring at his brother, but he kept his voice somewhat low.

“I would sooner leave them with a hungry sand-sniper,” Redimus snapped.

Besteel scoffed. “Oh, please! They’re my nieces!”

“And they are my daughters.”

The twin eyasses glanced at each other worriedly. This was about them?

“And that means they are Dorceans.” Besteel spread a few of his arms. “Does this look like a place where they can grow right?”

“Yes,” Redimus said.

Besteel growled in frustration. He moved, and Redimus dropped his net and moved with him, and they were circling each other, hackles raised as if they were about to fight- not an uncommon occurrence, when they got together. Besteen and Dorcy made to retreat, but then they stopped. Besteel dropped the tension in his shoulders and spread some of his talons out, in a peaceful gesture.

“I’m just saying: leave them with me, and they’ll come back as real Dorceans.”

Dorcy and Besteen looked at each other again. Real Dorceans? Weren’t they already real Dorceans? And why did Uncle Besteel want to take them away to turn them into some?

Redimus sighed and dragged his net back towards himself. He sorted through its coils, searching for where he left off in its repairs. “We’ve been over this a hundred times. My answer remains the same.”

“Well, it needs to change. How old are they? Two? And have you taken them hunting at all?”

“There is no need. We have enough to eat.”

Besteel then turned and looked directly at his nieces. “He doesn’t give you any meat, does he?” He asked them accusatorially.

The sisters jumped at being addressed so suddenly.

“Yes!” Dorcy said, “Papa gives us lots of fish.”

“Lots!” Besteen agreed. “He’s good at fishing.”

Besteel snorted. “Fish is hardly meat! I mean real meat- something you can hunt. Come on, what have you had that I haven’t sent you?”

“They’ve had turnfin,” Redimus said, “and jackknife, shellfish, thatchtail, munt-runner-”

“But have they hunted? Have either of them made their first kill yet?”

“Dorcy already made hers at three months old-”

“That was a fish!” Besteel groaned. “That hardly counts!”

He dragged a talon down his face in exasperation. “Gabu! It’s like you don’t want them to be Dorceans at all! Has my namesake even killed anything yet?”

Besteen ducked her head. She scratched at the planks under her with her little claws. “...I smushed a bug,” she offered, murmuring.

“Lots of bugs!” Dorcy supplied. “And you also help with gutting the spiderfish.”

Besteen perked up. “Oh, yeah!”

Besteel looked at them, clearly devastated. He shook his head, then shot a look of disgust at his brother. “You should be ashamed of yourself! You’re supposed to teach them about their heritage! Their family pride!”

“It should be their choice,” Redimus said, firmly.

Besteel snorted again. “It should! But it seems you’ve already decided for them. How are they supposed to choose what they want for themselves if you won’t even let them learn?”

“Learn what?” Dorcy peeped.

Redimus sighed. “What are you two even doing here?” He asked gently, ignoring the question, “Shouldn’t you be with your mother?”

“Mommy went back to sleep,” Besteen said. “So we came to see the fishies.”

Redimus gestured up with one of his free talons. “Alright. Go back up on the boardwalk. I’ll be there in a moment.”

“Uncle Besteel-?”

“Is not staying to visit.” Besteel said. Redimus nodded.

The eyasses seemed disappointed, but turned and slowly crawled their way back to the “usual” spot on the higher boardwalk, looking down into the water below. They watched the other fishermen and the shoals of spiderfish that swirled under the waves; but that wasn’t what was on their minds.

“We’re real Dorceans, aren’t we?” Besteen asked her sister.

“Of course!” Dorcy said, “Uncle Besteel is being silly because he wants to make Papa mad. What else could we be?”

Besteen looked at her sister for a moment, and then down at her claws. She wiggled them, as if she wasn’t sure they were really what they appeared to be.

“...You don’t think…”

The sisters looked at each other for a moment in silence. Then they both started laughing.

“What else could we be?” Dorcy said again, nudging her sister in the shoulder. Besteen giggled and nudged her back.

“Maybe marticks. Or bayries. That’s what uncle Huxie calls us.”

“No, I don’t want to be a bayrie! I prefer a martick. Marticks are fierce, and can spit acid!”

“That sounds like it hurts, though.”

“No, or else they wouldn’t always be doing it. I bet it's fun! I want acid spit!”

“I want acid spit, too! And horns!”

“I want horns, too! And-”

The two eyasses went on chittering, while unbeknownst to them, they were being watched from below. Redimus looked up at his twins, finishing the repairs on his net. Besteel shook his head.

“Look at them. That’s sad.”

“There is nothing wrong with them,” Redimus said in a low growl: a warning.

Besteel scoffed. “You would think so. You’re…you. It’s not fair to them, for you to try to mold them into your image, just because you think you know best.”

“I’m not trying to mold them into my image,” Redimus said. “They can hunt if they choose to. I’m not stopping them. There just hasn't been any need.”

“What about for their honor? Have you thought of that? They’re going to grow older. What male will ever want to join their harems if they can’t court him with a trophy display? No tribe leader would allow a male from his tribe to join with a female without blood honor.”

“It’s too early to think of that.”

“It’s never too early to earn honor.”

“There are other ways to get it. Ways that don’t involve blood.”

Besteel crinkled his nose in disgust. “You would believe something like that. You’re barely a Dorcean at all.”

Redimus didn’t respond. He continued furiously fixing his net, his gaze on his work. Besteel watched him and scoffed, though in truth, he regretted his choice of words; he had said something similar once, and it had gotten them both into trouble they almost couldn't come back from; no, a shaming approach wasn’t working. He had to attack this argument at a different angle.

An idea came to him. He glanced at his brother from the corner of his eye. A smirk formed on his features.

“...I bet they would have more fun hunting with me than fishing with you,” Besteel sneered.

Redimus tensed. His hackles began to rise.

Besteel chuckled. “You know it’s true. That’s why you don’t want them to visit me. Because you know that they’ll enjoy living like true Dorceans rather than Halcyonuses, and won’t want to come back to fishing nets and turnfins.”

Redimus felt his teeth grinding. A competitive streak, a long-held grudge, began to rise in him, though he tried to suppress it; but that tone, that sneer, was bringing it back out. He shook his net, trying to untangle it.

In a moment the grudge was suppressed. “I’m not going to make a bet with you over my eyasses.” He said.

“It’s not a bet,” Besteel said, “it’s a fact. You know they’re going to have more fun in one week with me than in two years of life with you.”

“But will it be safe?”

“Of course. It’s the edge of the forest, near the lake, not too dangerous. We grew up in the worst part of the forest and turned out fine.”

Redimus looked at him skeptically. Besteel shrugged.

“...I turned out fine.”

Redimus looked at him even more skeptically. Besteel waved his claws at him.

“Bah! You know what I mean; the point is- I think you just don’t want them to see how much better hunting is than fishing.”

Redimus glared at him. “Do you really think that’s going to work on me?”

“I know it is. You know you're going to lose. As always.”

“I don't always lose. I can think of quite a few times-”

“But I was talking about now.”

There was a tense stillness between them for a moment. Redimus grit his teeth, considering. He would never make a bet involving his eyasses- no matter how much Besteel teased and taunted- no, that wasn't what irked him. It was his words.

“Decided for them”

“Mold them into your image”

“Real Dorceans”

Expectations. Redimus had no expectations for his daughters. He knew, first hand, what that would do to them. But was he really choosing for them? What if they enjoyed the traditional lifestyle?

The thoughts swirled in his mind, gnawing into a long-held sense of guilt. Finally he growled and threw his net down. He pushed past his brother, towards the ramp leading to the higher boardwalk. Besteel watched him, smirking.

Redimus found his daughters playing with a bird feather they had found. Besteen caught it, then blew on it, and then they went scrambling around trying to catch it again. They only stopped when they noticed their father watching them. The feather blew away.

“Pack anything you’ll need for a week,” Redimus said, “You two are going to go stay with my brother.”

The twins squeaked in excitement and rushed off back towards their home, no questions asked. Redimus felt his brother's presence behind him.

“Don't be self-satisfied yet,” he warned. “I'm not agreeing to this to get at you.”

Besteel chuckled. “I know. But I win, all the same.”

“No. You don’t.” Redimus turned to look at him. His mechanical eyepatch caught the light, shining directly into Besteel's eye, and Besteel covered them with a grunt.

When he recovered, Redimus drew his claws down gingerly through the gouges of the scars on his face. The scars over his missing eye.

“Nothing,” he said, “is to happen to them. I know they’re like me. Just ensure they don't make my mistakes.”

Besteel snorted and slapped one of Redimus’ shoulders. “I know they're not as stupid as you were, at least. They'll be fine. And if they aren't, I'll shape them up.”

“What does that mean?” Redimus snapped.

Besteel smirked at him, but if he was going to reply he couldn't; the twins came back, hopping around Besteel’s feet and chirping questions. Redimus scooped them up and carried them down, from the tower down the stairs and onto a boardwalk to the beach, where Besteel's glider was parked.

Besteel strapped them onto a passenger seat on his glider and their luggage (two small bags, so at least they knew how to pack light) was strapped to each of the wings. The twins put their flight goggles on, and Redimus leaned over the glider to nuzzle beaks with each of them.

“Be good,” he said to them, “and be careful. The forest isn't like the lake, and it's much more dangerous. Keep an eye on your uncle for me.”

“We will,” Dorcy said, squeezing one of Redimus’ claws. Besteen took longer to let go, only relenting after her father gave her another nuzzle.

Besteel snorted. “For the last time, they're going to be fine. Finish with your goodbyes and let's go.” He put his helmet on and started the engine.

The glider began to lift with a loud hum. Redimus stepped back, waving.

“Goodbye,” he said, “stay safe.”

“We will, papa! Goodbye!”

Redimus watched them fly away, until the glider disappeared over the treeline in the distance. He sighed and began the trek back to the pier where he had left his net. He picked it back up and began to finish his repairs; for a while, his mind was empty.

But now that the confrontation had passed, and his blood cooled, he realized exactly what he had done- and realized, even worse, he now had to tell their mother. He sighed, folded up the net, and headed for his home.

The house was dark, and grew more so as he neared the room at its center, winding his way down a circular hall. As he went, the temperature also dropped, so that soon he could see his own breath. The refrigeration unit Hailey had repurposed for them was working well- extremely well, to be producing this temperature in the middle of Summer.

The hall ended at an arched doorway, and he stood at the threshold.

Doshika was lying on the floor of Redimus’ room- their room, when she was present- and she took up most of it. She had most of her limbs tucked under her, save for her her main pair of arms. They were propping up her chin on talons neatly folded. She opened her eyes as he came in.

“You are sending our eyasses to live with Besteel for a week.” She said.

Redimus ducked his head. He fiddled with his talons. “...Ah. You know already.”

Doshika's dark eyelids lowered halfway. “Dorcy and Besteen told me as they were kissing me goodbye.”

Redimus looked down at the carpet, picking at a few frosted threads with his claws. He cleared his throat a few times.

“...I'm sorry,” he said, after a moment.

“I understand. Your brother knows exactly how to get under your hide. Besides, it may be good for them to explore the world a little, to get fresh air that doesn't smell of the lake.”

He looked up at her. “If you're worried about Besteel-”

“He knows what I will do to him,” Doshika said. Her talons tightened on her knuckles. The dark black sickle claws shone in the dim light of the globular lanterns above.

Redimus nodded. He looked at the carpet again, then shivered a little in the cold.

“Still, I wish I had been consulted before I lost a week with my daughters,” there was a pointed inflection that sharpened at the end of the sentence, like an icicle.

Redimus ducked his head in shame again.

“I know. I am sorry.”

“Yes,” Doshika agreed.

There was another silence. Redimus rubbed one of his legs with another one, trying to warm it. He glanced at her, then away again.

He began shuffling back. “...So, I'm guessing you don't want me to-”

“Oh, no,” she said. “Perhaps the only good thing about this is I finally get you to myself. By all means, come here.”

***

Besteel landed the glider on the edge of his campsite. He turned it off, then took off his helmet and gestured to the glade with one arm.

“Well, here it is,” he said, “the Wandering Forest, my campsite.”

His nieces looked around at all of the trees and plants, the moss-strewn ground, and the many things Besteel had in his camp: lanterns hung on hooks, hunting implements, snares and cages and a tent for the rain.

Dorcy sniffed the air. “Oooh,” she said, “it smells alive here- not like the lake, in a different way! Very…planty!”

“So many trees,” Besteen murmured, “not like the garden.”

Besteel chuckled. “The forest is no garden, that's for certain. This is only the edge of it.”

He unstrapped them and the two eyasses hopped down onto the moss, sniffing it and squishing it between their talons. Besteel took their bags and placed them in a small mossy hollow in the center of his camp. His nieces rushed over and began to unpack their things, neatly laying out two small bedrolls and a dingy, chewed-up stuffed waterbear each.

Besteel blinked at them. “You still have those?”

Besteen hugged hers. “Mm-hm!”

Besteel narrowed his eyes. “Why? You're too old for baby toys.”

“We are?” Dorcy held hers tighter to herself protectively.

“You should be. Why hasn’t your sire taken them from you yet?”

The twins held their toys closer, as if afraid Besteel would take them away from them that instant; but he just snorted and shook his head.

“That's sad. Oh, well. His problem.”

He shrugged and then began using his multiple talons to brush dirt off himself.

“First thing's first. You need to learn the basics. What do you know about hunting? Nothing?”

“We know a little,” Besteen said.

“Not enough, I bet,” Besteel scoffed. “He's never taken you hunting. That changes now. But the first things must come first. That means we work on camp basics: location, set up, tool handling, weapons. After that I'm going to teach you about tracking, and if your instincts kick in by then, maybe I'll take you to make your first kills. You're both way behind for your age.”

He smirked. “But of course, with Orbona’s best hunter as your teacher, you'll be taking trophies by the end of the week.”

Dorcy and Besteen glanced at each other. They hugged their stuffed waterbears even closer.

“Then we'll be ‘real’ Dorceans?” Dorcy peeped.

Besteel nodded. “After you make your first kill, yes.”

“...But..what are we now?”

Besteel didn’t respond for a moment. There came a few expressions across his face, subtle twitches around his eyes and in the lines near his beak; but then he smiled again.

“Eyasses,” he said.

“What about papa?” Besteen chirped.

Besteel paused. He clicked his beak.

“Hm? What about him?”

“He's a real Dorcean too.”

Again, Besteel fell into that strange silence, save his face wasn’t a rippling pool of emotions like the first time- this time he seemed more solemn. His beak clicked together again.

“...Are you hungry?- Of course you are, you're still growing. I have some real meat in my stores. You seem to like water bear,” he said in a slightly jesting tone, gesturing to the plushes they held onto.

He rose and headed for another area of his camp, opening a latch that covered a hole in the ground. He began sorting through containers that were in there, something that smelled to the girls like spices the fishermen used to preserve fish- and there were other things they had never smelled before. Bloody things. Tasty smelling things.

But he hadn't answered their question; Besteen and Dorcy were too old to be so easily distracted. They noticed how their uncle had avoided it. They looked at each other again, and only more questions began to form in their little minds- questions they would seek the answers to in the coming week, whether Besteel wanted it or not.

[dracocheesecake]

Some Random WIP from the Raised By Dorceans AU ft. Small Eva Learning Alien Cuss Words:

(Warning: very rough and implied threats of child abuse)

Some context: They called her Beeboo for awhile because that's all they were able to make out of her language; they didn't realize she was talking about the doll, asking them about it, and if they knew what it was or wanted to play. They thought it was her name.

The girl squinted up at them. Slowly, she lifted a little hand, pointing at Besteel.

“...Ba. Steel.” She said. “Besteel.”

Both brothers paused. Besteel's head whipped in her direction, his eyes wide.

“...Did it just say what I think it said?” He asked.

Redimus nodded, his mouth agape. With some effort he closed it. “I...I think she did.”

She then turned her focus and her finger on Redimus. Her little face was scrunched up in concentration, her lips puckered with effort as she tried to think. Finally she spoke again.

“Mem-mim-mus,” She said resolutely.

Besteel laughed. “I’m guessing your name doesn’t roll off its tongue as well.”

“More syllables, and rougher,” Redimus agreed. He knelt down, examining the little creature more closely. As always, he saw a bright intelligence in her green eyes. He wondered how his brother couldn’t see it.

“Do you know what this means?” He said. Besteel scoffed.

“Don’t start trying to tell me its intelligent,” he said disdainfully, “it’s just repeating whatever it hears. Watch,” and he bent down to the little girl’s level. He tapped her on the head.

“Say ‘sheesa’.” He said.

Beeboo giggled. “Sheesa!”

Besteel smirked at his brother. “See?”

He turned back to the girl and pointed at Redimus. “And this one is ‘stupid fat fraaza’. Say that.”

She pointed at Besteel. “Besteel! Sheesa Besteel!”

Besteel's jaw clenched, and he whipped his head towards Beebo, glaring and bristling.

“That’s what you get,” Redimus chuckled, “teaching her foul language.”

Beeboo giggled again. “Fraaza Besteel sheesa! Sheesa! Besteel!”

Besteel growled and turned sharply away. “Make it shut up,” he snapped at his brother, before storming off towards his glider. As usual, that was his signal that he had completely lost interest in the human, and would leave Redimus to deal with the mess he made- until she became entertainment again, at least.

Redimus sighed and looked down at her. “How do we convince him, Beeboo?”

“Memimus!” She said, reaching for him. Redimus folded her arms back down with one pair of talons. Then he smiled and pointed at himself.

“No, no: Re-di-mus. Redimus.”

She squinted. “Meh…Meh…”

He shook his head. He pointed at himself again. “Red. Red. Red. I. Mus. Redimus.”

Beeboo nodded. She pointed at him. “Rrrr…Red..Rrreddie…Reddie-mus!”

Redimus chuckled. “Close enough. And you.” He pointed at her. “Beeboo.”

She shook her head, pouting. She pointed at herself, stomping her little feet. “Ev-a. Ev-a. Nine. Niiiiine. Nine. No Beeboo.”

“Eva Nine? Not Beeboo?”

“Eva Nine.” She said again. She shook her head. “No Beeboo.”

Redimus chuckled again and held up a pair of hands. “Alright, alright. Just Eva Nine. Let's try again.”

He gently placed a claw on her head. “Eva Nine.”

He pointed at himself with another. “Redimus.” He then pointed to Besteel, messing with his glider. “Besteel.”

Eva pointed at them each in turn, as Redimus had done. “Reddie-mus. Besteel.”

Then she pointed at herself. “Eva.”

Redimus nodded. “Very good, Eva. Now let's get you back in your cage, before Sheesa Besteel does something awful to you.”

[dracocheesecake]

Wondla Theory: Infected Redimus

Redimus is asymptomatic of the Vitae Virus- or it infected him at some point, but he somehow "recovered" and so didn't get the cool powers Eva did- but he was still mutated, to a far lesser extent.

How so?- Let's see:

Redimus is far more empathetic than most of his people, to the point that he cannot kill prey for sport like the rest of his kind. Even Rovender and Antiquus find that somewhat shocking behavior for a Dorcean, and it's not too far out to assume that other races might find the idea shocking as well:

In fact, Redimus was so empathetic towards his prey that his own father labeled him as a disgrace and an embarrassment to the entirety of their people:

Judging from this text, I don't think Reddie's dad was just entirely exaggerating: Redimus actively paused to consider the motivations of this extremely dangerous animal he was supposed to kill- instead of callously doing what needed to be done- and that moment of empathy cost his eye, but he doesn't even seem to be bitter about it. He understood that it was just trying to survive. We can assume that this wasn't the only time that he hesitated to act in such a manner.

He even considered his brother a monster for killing for sport, and himself even worse for what he did in the menagerie- Besteel (and maybe any other Dorcean) would have felt no such shame or horror- but Redimus did, and sought forgiveness for his actions.

There's even a few hints that Redimus has some of the ability- the "feeling really hard" that Eva described. Look here:

"Oooh but those are just his naturally sharp Dorcean senses!"

Is that so? We know Dorceans can sense heat, that they have a good sense of smell, maybe even sharp hearing- but not that sharp. Now, this could be a bit of a reach- but Redimus is able to sense things others cannot- he can read people and animals well.

...Maybe something about Eva felt familiar to him?

Besteel may not have felt it just because he was wild and reckless...or maybe because he didn't have the ability to. He would have been more careful, otherwise (but then again, this is the same guy who somehow nabbed a giant sandsniper, who did a bunch of other stupid stuff just to have a chance at getting Eva, so who knows?).

And here's another kicker:

Concept art of Eva Nine:

"Leaf symbol of peace tattooed on forehead"

...Look at Redimus' forehead:

Where did Redimus say he grew up?

"The forest north of Lake Concors. The woods there are wild and untamed, full of beasts unlike any you will ever see."

You mean like the Heart of the Forest? Full of strange, new beings no one can imagine?!! Because of the Vitae Virus generator mutating everything?!!

Alright, again, that part could be a bit of a stretch, because it's not that north of Lake Concors, but this is the Wandering Forest, and this is just a fun theory so bear with me a bit: obviously because of The Mother they weren't born/raised there, there- but probably close enough to it to matter. Close enough to it for it to have some sort of effect, for the virus to spread.

Perhaps even to infect a young Dorcean? If it could somewhat infect Eva Nine when she was still an embryo, is it all that improbable to believe that the virus has infected much of the water supply throughout the forest? Or maybe it was even being carried by some of those creatures that Redimus' family were hunting and eating. Redimus, for whatever reason, was just more susceptible- but not enough for it to change him in a major way. He hasn't been "purified", but only partially mutated- enough for him to have a heaping helping of empathy.

And that's my crack theory that I came up with with only a scrap of supporting evidence to stretch paper thin over an expansive imagination.

Mind you I've barely read the books yet so bare with me a bit.

[ladyanaconda]

Rovender and Besteel Headcanons

And now, we get these two. Some are based on the book's lore, but this still occurs in the continuity of the TV series.

They weren't exactly enemies, but they had a low opinion of each other. In Besteel's case, it's because Rovender has freed animals he's captured a few times, which violates the Dorceans' code of honor. From Besteel's perspective, Rovender is a lowly thief.

Rovender met Cassiora before her death. Like her husband, she was pissed at him for making their days of hard work go to waste whenever he freed their quarries. She even gave him quite the beating on one occasion.

Despite the bad blood between them, Rovender felt sympathy for Besteel when he heard of Cassiora's death—especially because the Dorcean retired from hunting afterward to raise his daughter.

Initially, Rovender thought that Besteel had come out of retirement because his reputation and ego was more important to him than his child. It's not until much later that he learns Besteel was practically forced out of retirement to free his daughter and brother, who'd been imprisoned for two years.

Besteel tied up Rovender at his campsite because he wouldn't risk the Caerulean freeing the 'last human', which he needed to deliver to Solas so Redimus and Fayluna would be released.

Surprisingly, the two have somewhat similar views regarding parenting. They occasionally let their children learn things by themselves but keep an eye on them and intervene if they get in trouble or are at risk.

During Ruins, Rovender is the first to realize that Fayluna is Besteel's daughter after the latter trapped him, Muthr, and Otto in the force field, coldly telling them to stay out of it. Once they managed to break it, Rovender told Otto to find Fayluna while he and Muthr tried to stop Besteel.

Rovender was the first to try and help Besteel when the sand snipers closed in on him and Fayluna—mostly because he didn't want the latter to become an orphan.

In season 2, they have a more-or-less distant yet cordial relationship. Sort of. Then, one night, they shared a few drinks and opened up regarding their loss of loved ones. Besteel was surprisingly sympathetic when he heard Rovender lost his wife and daughter.

All in all, they buried the hatchet. While trying to find a way to leave New Attica with Fayluna, Besteel tells Rovender to come with them, stating that Eva is with her own kind—all she wanted in the first place.

Occasionally, they drink with Redimus—or rather, Redimus watches them drink because Besteel won't let him have any XD.

Thank you to @dracocheesecake for clearing up a few tidbits about them from the book.

[dracocheesecake]

Random Dorcean Twins Headcanon:

I think Besteel and Redimus have the sort of sibling rivalry where they'll each take any bet or dare laid down by the other one, no matter how ridiculous or unnecessary. It's usually Besteel who has to turn everything into a competition, though. Seriously all Redimus has to do is breathe and Besteel has to assert his superiority.

However, Redimus isn't as stubborn and reckless as Besteel is, and does have limits (when his mind is right*cough*menagarie*cough*), knowing when it is best to take up or decline a challenge; but Besteel, unfortunately, is really good at pushing his brother's buttons in order to goad him into it, against that better judgment.

[dracocheesecake]

Some small tiny snippet of something I wrote on a random burst of inspiration for the Two Dorceans and a Human AU:

The girl climbed up Besteel's torso with primate skill, then wrapped her arms and legs around his thick neck as if trying to grapple him- but her small size wouldn't allow her to wrap even half way around it. Besteel snorted and shook himself, and she lost her arm's grip, though her legs remained clinging. Her upper half slid off his shoulder and swung across his chest like a pendulum, her mess of braids dangling below as she giggled.

Besteel grumbled, untangled her, and tossed her away. The girl let out a shriek of delight as she flipped through the air and landed on her feet. She paused, as if surprised, and then turned to look at him, eyes wide and sparkling. Then she ran right back at him, giggling, and began the procedure all over again. Besteel obliged, and Redimus was almost certain he wasn't imagining the smile tugging at the corner of his brother's jagged mouth.

[ladyanaconda]

Besteel Headcanons

Here's some random headcanons for our favorite Dorcean from the Papa Wolf AU.

A reminder that I made these based on the TV series continuity.

He's a very loud snorer. In fact, Cassiora used earplugs when they went to bed.

Has a taste for salty food. In fact, during hunting expeditions, he always carried a salt shaker with him for his food. Cassiora never let him cook their meals because they often ended up too salty for her liking.

Being very attractive by Dorcean standards, Besteel was desired by most of the females in his clan. His later reputation and prowess as a hunter contributed to this. However, while he was quite the ladies' man in his youth, he only considered settling down once Cassiora came along.

He's currently 42 years old and is older than Redimus by 40 minutes. Despite their differences, he has looked out for his little brother his whole life.

As a seasoned hunter, Besteel is knowledgeable not only about Orbona's creatures and how to deal with them but also about survival tactics in the wilderness, as well as which plants can be used for healing and which are poisonous.

While feared amongst non-Dorceans as a cold-blooded bounty hunter, he's actually held in high regard by his own kind, often described as 'what every young hunger should aspire to be'. Nowadays, he's pretty modest about it.

Every now and then, he still has nightmares about Cassiora's death.

Wants to kill Loroc with his own hands after learning of his deceit regarding Fay being abducted by Eva.

Despite his brutish appearance and short temper, Besteel is quite good with kids. Especially Dorcean cubs.

His first kill was made at eight—one of the youngest in Dorcean history.

Despite retiring as a hunter following his wife's death, he's used some of his other skills to bring food to the table—notably his excellent hand at tanning animal hides.

The word 'sugarcoat' isn't in his vocabulary. As far as he's concerned, it's best to tell the truth straight out, as much as it might hurt others, rather than sweeten them with a lie. This makes him quite blunt when speaking.

Has an earnest, no-nonsense attitude and isn't very fond of jokes and pranks. Especially when directed at him. Redimus is the only exception.

He has a good baritone singing voice, but he seldom sings, especially in public. The only time he does this is to lull Fay to sleep.

While it took him a while to admit it, he was impressed by Eva's earlier boldness and wit. They reminded him a bit of his late wife.

Besteel knows he's not a saint and has done questionable things these past two years. However, while he does regret killing Muthr by accident, he does not regret doing what he had to do in order to free his brother and daughter.

[ladyanaconda]

Sketch for how I imagine Redimus in the tv series for the time being, carrying the egg sac like the only book illustration I’ve seen so far.

Since he isn’t an active hunter like Besteel—and is certainly not an asshole like him—I tried to give him a… gentler look. Also, I imagine that while he might have thick build like all Dorceans, he isn’t as muscular as his brother because he didn’t spend as much time hunting or doing exercise.

Regarding his fur color, I was considering giving him a darker tone of purplish blue like his mother’s.

Im going to add the mark in the forehead in digital.

@dracocheesecake and @faithisthedoctor since you guys seem to know him better than I, I’d like some constructive feedback.