Unlike Lucifer, Atbash didn't really have a legacy to live up to. Her parents were just peasants in the society they lived in, being born and raised in the bottom Tier. Life had been happy then, simple. Then again, her and her siblings were only kids, of course the stress of being the lowest-ranking person in a society hadn't caught up to them. But even after they grew up a little, the stress never really came to them until Caesar decided he wanted to be King, and the only way of doing that was getting rid of 'threats'.

Atbash probably wouldn't understand Lucifer's feelings of not wanting to be his father's creature again, since she had no legacy to live to whatsoever. She admired and honored Vigenere for being selected to become part of the King's Guard, but that wasn't exactly a legacy to be expected to live up to. Hell, she dreamed of being a Shaman for a while, but things weren't that easy back home.

The footsteps Lucifer heard were Atbash, trying to approach him as silently as she could. Not to scare him, but to respect him; he seemed to be deep in thought and she didn't want to disturb that. "Lucifer?" She gently spoke, watching him move, seemingly sensing her presence. Whoops. She really hadn't meant to do that. "Is everything okay? Um... Being in the snow for too long might not be good for your health." Atbash knew nothing about dragons, but most reptiles were cold-blooded, right? Meaning their body temperature went along with the weather, so the snow surely was bothering Lucifer?

[shadow=darkblue,right]KILLUA[/shadow]

Expectations was something that everyone was capable of having. He himself had expectations for those that were around him, although they weren't exactly high standards in that regard as he knew high expectations would just lead him to be disappointed when it came to the clans. Killua himself had dealt with expectations and had realized at a very young age because as soon as he was born he had been declared the heir to a family. When it came to the clans, it was rare that they had a hierarchy where someone would be born from those that ruled the group, and then their offspring would rule after them. That system simply didn't work when it came to the likes of a clan. But when it came to the likes of an assassin family? It was probably the best method that they could have chosen in the end. Killua had come from a family that was assassins, and when he was around three months old they began his training. Training someone so young when it came to the morals of the clans seemed to be completely taboo, but Killua found that it had given him a head start when it came to the strategies he could come up with and how much more experience he had when it came into regards of those that were around his age in the clans. Barely any of them knew how to fight and still had to have mentors show them the ropes for the most basic activities that Killua had already perfected up to this point. Either way, both his father and his mother had high expectations for him, seeing how fast he was capable of grasping certain subjects that were pushed in his way. He was a quick learner, but not only that he was incredibly efficient when it came the learning material that he was actually given. The wildcat didn't have to worry about falling behind, especially with the training schedule that he had been given. Although, Killua probably consider the likes to really be training. At three months old, they began his torture training, which had been the most painful month of his life as his wounds didn't take all that long for him to heal thanks to his young age. The older a creature got, the harder it was for bones to heal themselves if they were broken, or even small wounds could be almost life-threatening for older creatures. The wildcat was able to keep up with his training thanks to this quick healing process in creatures that were as young as that. He was only able to sustain so much damage thanks to how much larger his body was compared to that of a domestic cat. At three months old, he was already the size of a mid-age apprentice that lived in the clans. Not something that could be taking all that lightly, and it was during this time that Killua had also managed to acquire the claws that he had to this day.

The claws he did have now though weren't the claws that he was given to by his family, and instead, the claws he had now were newer versions of the ones that he had previously. The original claws he had were in the clan territory that he had left, as it was there that his brother attacked him, ripping out his claws from his paws and leaving the weapons behind to be weathered away by the environment. Being the middle child, one would thank that Killua would never be the heir to an elite family. He would have hoped that would be the case as he would be all for having his oldest brother be the heir to the family so that he wasn't forced to be it instead. The ivory-hued wildcat just wanted to live a normal life, and the Zoldyck's had stripped that away from him before he could say anything about it. Instead, his father had decided to pick out which child would have the most potential growing up, and he had been the lucky one. At least that's what his siblings had told him when it was decided that he was going to be the heir to the family business that was worth quite a lot. They were considered the most powerful family that lived in their area, and their last name was basically infamous. Hence why Killua never mentioned his last name when he talked to others, and he rarely even gave out his name, to begin with. When he was younger, Killua was fully prepared to take over the family business without any argument. It was only once he was able to see the outside world instead of being stuck in the damned mansion that he realized that he didn't want this sort of life. Especially after seeing the life that the clans had where they didn't have to worry about something horrible happening over and over again. It would be nice for him to relax and enjoy life for once, and because of the decision that he made, he was punished. Which Killua was fine with because he knew that his family had their reasons for physically punishing him, but after that he let himself heal in the estate before making his escape once his oldest brother was out on a mission. So the tiger wouldn't be there to stop him, as there were only a couple creatures that were capable of doing so. He ran for his life, and he was still running from the rest of his family, constantly leaving trails that lead to dead ends so that they would hopefully never find him. With the discovery of a family guard dog that found him though, he was running out of time. The injuries that he had sustained from his night terror weren't healing as quickly as he would have liked either. Bandages wrapping around his throat and his right arm from where his long metal claws had sunk deep into his flesh. Killua could deal with the pain, but he couldn't train with his elemental powers until he was fully healed. He wanted to be healthy already, and for once in his life, he was lacking patience.

Lucifer certainly wasn't the only dragon that Killua had ever met. His father and his grandfather were both dragons, although they both had the albinism genes that he had. Although his father and his grandfather didn't stay in that form for very long due to the fact it would make conducting assassinations a little bit difficult. Since he had injured himself, Killua hadn't been around when Lucifer joined, so he still didn't believe that there was a dragon that lived in the clan. Considering the size of the mythical creature, one would assume that Killua would have already seen the male, but he had been busy and stuck to the outskirts of the clan for the meantime. Killua was walking through the pine forest, no sign of a limb visible as he walked silently through the snow. His air elementals making it so that his movements were almost completely silent and made sure that he didn't give off any scent whatsoever. He could hear voices in the distance and was wondering what the hell was going on so decided he might as well investigate. It wasn't an intruder at all he could smell was Snowbound. He blinked his sapphire blue eyes and then as he got closer he could notice a large black figure in the distance. Who the hell was that? Silentgrave maybe? No. He hadn't seen the creature in a long time so he doubted it was really even him. He flicked one of his large white ears as he finally came into view of what the creature was. It was a dragon. One that was black and red in certain places and everyone around him seemed to be somewhat calm. The other was a Snowbounder? That didn't mean that Killua was automatically going to trust the beast. He had killed plenty of dragons in the past and it wasn't impossible, but in his condition, if he ever did have to fight Lucifer he would be at a disadvantage. Killua sat off to the side of the group and seemed to hum to himself. The other was obviously built like some sort of tank, very few weaknesses between the other's armored plating. An impressed whistle escaped Killua's jaws as he looked at Lucifer before speaking. "Well, we don't have to worry about getting attacked anymore now that we have a living tank here." Killua would say in somewhat of a teasing voice, but there was apprehension in his tone. He didn't trust Lucifer. He hadn't arrived soon enough to hear Atbash utter the others name. "What's your name?" Killua questioned, his voice calm now. Just because he didn't trust the other, didn't mean he was afraid of the massive creature. Far from it. There was only one creature that Killua was afraid of.

snowbound -- snowstriker -- male -- 8 moons

Ah, it was reassuring to know the weather didn't affect Lucifer too much. Did that mean dragons weren't cold-blooded like most reptiles, or just that his size prevented him from feeling too cold, or was it some other reason? It wasn't something to worry over, Atbash decided, and smiled as the dragon reassured her. "Oh, me?" She responded when he asked what she was doing outside of camp. "Oh, just... Making rounds, I suppose." Which wasn't entirely a lie. She liked coming out to think about things as well, even if it was cold outside. Old memories were painful, and sometimes the cold helped numb her.