It was almost too easy. Once Sköll had arrived back on Willow Ridge soil, all he had to do was remain scarce, track the movements of a majority of his pack mates, and bide his time. The pack had come to feel like it had run on clockwork; day in and day out, its members did as was expected of them, each duty done in turn within a reasonable timeframe. The only gap within it all being him and his age-mate sister Morganna. They seemed to do as they pleased, working in circles together around @Sven and the younger Archer-Lyall cubs while Piety remained absent and Elettra kept busy at the outskirts of her realm.

It seemed as though the evening hours had come upon them much earlier than expected. The sun was tucked away behind dark-lined clouds and a cool, autumn storm rolled over the willows on a nose-biting breeze. It was perfect. For as long as he remained upwind, he could truly become invisible, in the middle of the day, lingering at the corner of his target's eye if only Angier dared to look. The rustling of the trees partially disguised his swift steps and the movement of the long whip-like branches all around them guided his steps.

He trailed Angier for several minutes, watching even as his half-brother scampered off somewhere to his right. Eventually, the both of them came to a space in the middle of four majestic willow trees. As the patriarch walked into the open glade, Skoll ducked behind the willow whose branches still held tight to their fading leaves. Vigilant silver eyes studied him in the spaces between the vines as they danced in front of his scarred face.

Everywhere Angier looked and placed his paws, the demon prince took note. It was only until he found himself at the Lyall's back did he fully feel the itch at the bottom of his pads, the adrenaline beginning to surge through his veins. He leapt but it was a moment too soon. His long limbs were no match for the slick leaves that were skittering over the dying grasses. Perhaps he had been set up. His intended attack would miss as he slid to his step-father's right side, his forelimbs sprawled out as he used his splayed back legs to stop. Jaws agape, now in fear rather than determination and intention to wound, he stared up into Angier's silvered face. His pointed black ears fell back...

Sköll's eyes closed; it was the least he could do apart from turning his head. He felt Angier's teeth sink into the back of his neck, threatening to pierce through his undercoat and into his skin. He had done this once - to Rook Lyall, no less - and now he knew for himself just how it felt to be the one on the receiving end of a death threat.

"Stupid, stupid boy!" the Leader roared. A pained yelp came from him in protest as Angier jerked his head to one side. The Archer continued to stare into the back of his eyelids, closing them as tight as he could manage, embracing the black and using it to ward off the pain that was darting into the back of his skull. "I'm not that easy ta git rid of! Whut makes ya think I'm no different than that other man ya killed?!" More than once, a whimper fled from his lips and he winced. Tears emerged from the corners of his eyes, rolling down his stark black cheeks. He didn't have an answer; his motives had been clear from the very day he had learned about the line of succession within his mother's pack and, if Angier had never taken to him as one of his own, there was only one way around trying to obtain the Lead position for himself.

"You can't get rid of me," the Lyall made certain to clarify. I will kill you before you even try!" A shudder overcame the prince's shoulders and chest; he trembled. At long last the King of Willow Ridge had shown his true colors. He didn't love Sköll; he probably never did and, now, he never would. Not after this.

Despite his miscalculations and the internal scoldings that were now racing through his mind, Sköll did his best to keep himself grounded. Even as he quivered and shook he held fast, trying all he could to block the pain that radiated from the back of his neck to the base of his skull. He knew Angier couldn't kill him... If he did, the deed might as well be his one-way ticket out of Willow Ridge; surely Elettra would not stand for such a thing, let alone continue to align herself with a killer... one that could have done her in but never thought to do it.

For a while he believed he was done for - meant to use up his stamina until he had had enough of being humiliated and subject to more wounds and scars on his already mutilated face - until his saving grace came in his sister's wake. His eyelids cracked open, staring through the willows as he listened to her. What she had to say much have resounded in the aging man's mind because no sooner than she had made herself present, Angier let him go as soon as he whimpered. His chin found the ground beneath him but his ears did not yet perk up. Not even to listen as the Leader spat back at Morganna.

The prince's brows came down in a scowl, the fire inside him stoked and rekindled from her claim. As soon as Angier moved, Sköll found himself at an advantage...

Much like a snake, he subtly angled his head then, without much warning, he struck. If he hadn't been much faster than Angier, he could have missed the opportunity. His bared teeth threatened to find purchase on the Lyall's own nape, but the momentum from his strike was enough to sweep the King off his feet. It wasn't enough to, say, call the fight over, but it brought him back as something of a worthy opponent - even if there was barely enough fight left in him to continue on. While the whole of Angier's left side came in contact with the earth, Sköll's elbows and whatever weight or force he could muster crashed down on his ribs.

An ugly sneer distorted his face and he bared his teeth close to Angier's snout with a booming growl, as if to comment, 'You were saying?' His ear swiveled towards his sister, wondering if she might egg him on or deter him from continuing. He could do it, they both knew.. It was only a matter of questioning whether or not it was the right move to execute.

Even after Morganna's touch had convinced her brother to release his hold on Angier, Sköll's fur remained bristled and his tail kept high in the air. Angier left himself open to an attack. It took all of Sköll's inner will to keep himself from ending Angier's reign by his own teeth. On and on and on the Lyall babbled and the words coming off his tongue just aggravated him. He was told to challenge Nicoló before anything else; what was worse was that the King provoked Morganna. Humility, according to Sköll as an Archer, meant weakness; the lack of vanity translated into shame and a lack of self-worth. It pained the prince just to listen; @Elettra Archer deserved more than this...

Regardless of his sister's wordless request or command to allow Angier some space, Sköll acted on the Leader's words about his time as his Queen's king consort being up. Again, he was upon the silver-touched Lyall, another snarl emitting from his chest and throat as he continually forced and kept his step-father down to the ground. At first he planted a forepaw on either side of his head then, ever-so-smoothly he snaked his right forepaw, nails down, right into the King's throat. He should have been careful with what he wished for...

"If it won't be you, then it's me..." he jeered. "And I will not stand by and wait for you to die! I will not be bullied by some dull creature! I have the higher ground now, Angier, and YOU WILL YIELD TO ME!!"