Iris
"You sound as though you wish to dig your claws in so deeply the collective minds of all are scarred by you." She says, pale eyes somewhat focused upon him. "To leave a mark to prove you existed, or is it to remind them of what they did to you? And what you did in return? Like some karmic exchange of scars."

Her head tips. "Or do you want to rob them as they robbed you? Was it the man who died, or was is the child who feared the monsters in their fever dreams?" Edging slightly into more sensitive territory, though her tone still lacked. There was no judgement, or pushing, but a simple question as if seeking cause and effect. As he detailed his capture, the beating, torture, break down, she did so impassively. He could very well be talking to the empty air, but this air had ears and a mouth as if to ask and pull more out into the open from an infected wound. Draining it, or hurting it worse. Who knows.

"Vengeance?" She repeats. "For who? You, or the child you carry within you? Perhaps for both?" As she looks at the water. "If you become them, what will happen to you? Or do you seek to become a brief, violent storm as impersonal as the gods? There is perhaps freedom there as well for you."
Helen
"Oh there is no reason to remind them. They *Know* What they did to me- what they *Do* To my kin every moment keeping them in irons," He growled bitterly. "And they still have the *Audacity* To claim a righteous cause and moral superiority. 'High' elves, they even call themselves."

The jackal's tone oozed with venom at the sheer mention, his malignant glare seemingly searching for enemies even at the vast expanse of sea below. "The *Boy* Was locked up. The man died in chains. What left that prison keep... Was a monster. *That* Was the only part they did not plan for."

His breathing halted still on a whim as a dark metallic sheen formed around his jaw bones. A pair of aberrant scarlet horns began to slowly sprout atop his forehead, and the jackal bore his fangs, biting back a harrowing snarl. A sharp obsidian coil began to form around his uncovered hands like armour, growing out of his own skin beneath blackened fur. "The Beast hungers once more. For vengeance against that child... And every child that suffered such fate. The Beast will be free soon. He will claim that vengeance... One kill at a time." His already thin composure seemed to slip away with every word, reverberating with a morbid growl. "And when *He* Does, you'd be wise to stay out of his way."
Iris
She could hear the attempt to separate himself from who he was; Both man and child. He sounded like he wanted a wall between himself and them. She wasn't surprised by it. She could remember being the same at one point.

"High elves are used to being at the top of the 'food chain' of sorts," She says, "They prey upon those they view as 'lessers'. Children. Women. Young men. If you twist them," She says, twisting the bottom of her own shirt, "You can plant a seed. You can make them believe they deserve it. You can make them look weak... Or make a monster, and let them prove it themselves." She let go of her shirt, eyes unwavering. The sheen formed. The covering appeared. 'The Beast' though there wasn't anything visible in her eyes.

"It's just a little bit. Like the last straw that break's the back of your donkey. If it wasn't there it could be fine, but that's why you do it many times to increase the chances. Then you make... Men like you, who are 'Monsters'. And let them prove their point." She then raised her hands, spread in a motion of offering, "And then they don't need to justify themselves. Easy. Like wiping out Oni and pushing them to the edges."

She didn't respond to the somewhat threat. It didn't seem necessary.
Helen
A shaky arm reached underneath his cloak to procure a flask of strong, chugging down its content vigorously. He exhaled, letting the warmth of liquor wash over him, which had also seemed to slow down the twisted contortions upon his body... If only for a while. His expression tread a fine line between weary and unhinged, body arched backwards to lean against a nearby tree stump.

"*Top of the food chain*... An apt choice of words," The jackal snarled with a shallow grin showing his canines. "They never belonged to the top though, as much as they kept convincing themselves they are. My kin *Earned* That spot, and it is my task to remind the elves of it. I will remind them *Why* They feared us, and *Why* Had to keep us in chains... One way or another."

Another deep chug of liquor. His legs were shaking mildly now, the sharp claws on his feet scarring dirt and stone over the precipice. "Perhaps that was truly their intention for me. A monster to serve their will. Another beastkin slave to order around. A mistake that will cost them *Everything*." 

He breathed in deep of the night air before continuing. "Perhaps in the end, true freedom is not having to justify your deeds. I do not need a self-righteous reason for murder, unlike the elves. Whether it is long-overdue, deserved, or made to free my kin, murder is murder. Those are simply reasons to relish in it. Because it is necessary."