Sly Jackal

A beat of silence hung between the two inhuman beings before it was broken. Surprisingly enough, Jörmungandr was the one to unsettle it.

"...Are you going to disturb the children?"

The Jackal blinked, taken aback by the hostility of the man. The writhing shadow of a serpent large enough to blanket the sky in its silhouette made itself known, and had it not been for the sadness in the monsters voice, he would've thought that the man would've swallowed him whole, along with the warmth of the sun.

'So he is different from that guy... noted.'

The Jackal boy just smiled, his easy grin straining a little as he assured in the face of the pressure, "Now, why would I do that to a perfectly lovely grave? Even I wouldn't have thought of the idea of placing the children's souls within such delicate-seeming vessels..."

As quickly as the shadow swallowed the sky, it disappeared, and the sun shone warmly on them again. Disinterested, the man once again knelt before the small flowers, his now sunset eyes seeming so much more tender, and the Jackal had to question the information given prior.

'That old Ibis... has he finally gone senile? Not that I didn't expect that—not with all the experiments he's done on himself and everyone within a five mile radius.'

Thankfully, the boy had inherited his wits from his father, and kept his smile up before asking another question.

"Are you eating those poor little souls?"

The man retracted his fingers lightly, his gaze sliding back to rest on the jackal's face, a warning in them.

He looked at if he despised the mere insinuation of such an act, and the Jackal couldn't help but be intrigued by the man—intrigued, and overflowing with approval; those who honored the dead properly would always be held in great esteem by the Jackal god, and those who defiled and desecrated the residences of the dead... well, suffice to say, the subject was better left alone.

Even his hands had buried many a people.

"So you're putting them to rest? Is watching their short and lonely lives so entertaining?"

The gaze returned to the flowers, and the Jackal could hear the reply even before it was made audible; he was genuinely astounded by how much his eyes spoke of his emotions in contrast to his consistently expressionless face.

He wondered if the definition of monster had changed in the last 5,000 years.

"...They weren't always lonely... sometimes warm... sometimes cold... sometimes nothing... sometimes overwhelmed... but always alive, even when they felt otherwise... even when... they were lonely..."

The Jackal smiled, his gaze becoming as ancient and wistful as the man's.

"Oh, eternity—the greatest curse."

"..."

The Jackal laughed, his expression playful at the man's quiet.

"You don't talk much, do you?

"..."

"Well, that's fine. I myself never have anyone to talk to, since skulls aren't exactly excellent conversation partners, so I'm afraid that I'm rather talkative."

"..."

"Still, I do think you should speak more; babbling is boring when the other person doesn't respond at times. Even if they're frustrated, it's more enjoyable with at least some feedback rather than so little, you know?"

"..."

"Oh c'mon! You don't have any questions or expressions? Goodness, you remind me of 3,000 years ago—by Ra I was an emo freak. Ugh, just thinking about it makes me feel uncomfortable. I mean seriously—I refused to show my face save for the Jackal head, and constantly wore black while hiding in corners!

"And, yeah, I still wear black, since it's nice, but I stepped out of the corners and changed into my proper face. Speaking of which, isn't my avatar so nice? Well, I say 'avatar', but technically, you were the people to invade my world so... that's why I can cheat a little in the [Wish]—compensation, you know? Ah, System certainly loves their compensation, even though it's mostly junk; just because they compensated Us doesn't mean the damage is reversed, but since We got an advantage, I suppose it's not too bad..."

The Jackal wasn't joking—they really were a chatterbox, as Jörmungandr was slowly finding out. However, while most of it sounded like rubbish, there were some occasional nudges and hints that incited his curiosity slowly but surely.

[Wish] compensation? Advantage? Jackal-head? Skulls?

Who was this child?

And that was why Jörmungandr was becoming so impressed with this mysterious individual—and wary. He'd thought it was but a silly dog, but it had turned out to be a sly Jackal instead.

Eventually, the questions piled up, and the Jörmungandr who lacked social patience couldn't stand it anymore.

"... Compensation?"

The sly Jackal stopped talking, before his smile widened even more, his expression innocently cunning; his plan had worked.

He extended his arm, his hand outstretched as he replied, "I'm Anubis, one of the oldest of the Egyptian gods, depending on the myth, of course. I am Keeper of the Underworld and Embalmer of the Dead are a few of my titles. What's your name?"