Asheni's lips would part, her larynx would vibrate and she would scream, but no one had heard her. The snow behind her staining crimson with her own life's essence, claws tore through the snow in a desperate attempt to drag her dying bodice deeper into the territory. The wolf had come from nowhere, crashing through the border and tearing into her with a maddened frenzy. Her body was a shattered mess. Broken bones, shredded flesh, gaping wounds, and so much agony. She had managed to evade him but only for a moment. Would he return to finish the job as she dragged her broken bodice along the snow, her bodice bowing beneath the weight of her injuries as she collapsed into the frigid ice. Asheni cried, tears pooling from her eyes like tiny raindrops. She swung her head around to glance behind her and then took in her state. Her back left leg was completely mangled, shreds of born tore through the flesh with an angry vengeance. Claw marks raked her haunches, thick, dark blood oozing from the deep wounds. Punctures along her abdomen, Her tail scraped of fur and flesh, hung limp and bent at an awkward angle. Broken. Her chest heaved and the slashed presented along her chest would trickle more of her life. Everything hurt. The white in her fur was stained the color of blood. Asheni cried. She would never see Crusade's pups grow into fine young adults, she would never know if Merci would grow to replace her, she would never see her best friends again, and she regretted neglecting them. She should have visited them more, she should have done so much more. The white in her fur was stained a sickening red and blue eyes widened impossibly as the face of her tormentor returned to her view. Desperately she clawed at the snow dragging her body to stand. She screamed at the weight she was forced to bare on her mangled limb. She made it a few more steps before her legs simply bowed and gave out beneath her. Asheni's lips would part, her larynx would vibrate and she would scream, but no familiar face swarmed into her vision. Speech,

The skies were gray and over-cast. The snow would fall gently on the ground, possibly the only gentle thing about the moment. He would relentlessly push forward, his body pushing against the wind. Fresh blood would drip from his jaws as he stalked forward completely ignoring the boundary lines of the pack. The feeble form before him struggled in the snow, and he watched her with disdain.

A flash-back from the earlier moments over-took his vision, and he could see her form before he blindsided her and ripped into her. He didn?t know who she was, the bitch had simply been in his way at the wrong time. He had torn into her, and she hadn?t fought back, as if she was prey. He would watch her struggle away from her, as he would circle her restlessly. Her blood warmed his cold jaws, and tasted so sweet and taboo, like a delicacy that he had been forbidden.

A feral snarl would rip from his jaws, as he watched her struggle in the snow, and he would stalk towards her beaten frame. His jaws would open and close upon her left fore-limb, his canines ripping through the fur and into her tendons. His jaws would lock, and his head would jerk back, ripping the muscle away from bone. He would then adjust his jaws, to wrap his mouth around her bones. Force-fully he?d snap his mouth shut, letting out a satisfied grumble when the bone audibly cracked.

He would step back, away from her again, and stalk around her, before leaping again and ripping at the tender flesh of hers stomach. Pain, that?s all he wanted to cause her. He wanted to hear her scream, and watch with satisfaction as the warm crimson life-force pours onto the snow, melting it and dying the white ground red.

A rumble of dark laughter would escaping his dripping mouth, as he pulled away from her again, before positioning himself to rip her entrails from her body. His teeth would pass easily through her fur and skin, and he would grab a mouthful of her intestines and stretch them before her, enjoying the sounds of her screams. More blood would follow, as the pink and soft organs would be stretched away from her body, to make easy pickings for the carrion eaters.

His head would turn, and he would snap her hind-leg into his jaws, breaking the bone between his teeth. She would never run again, and he would be able to watch as she died slowly. Stepping away from her, he would stalk around her, before slowly stepping forward to her face, staring with his oddly colored oculars down into her blue ones. A smile would form on his maw, as he slowly would stretch his neck forward to bite into her throat, biting deep but not deep enough for her to die immediately. He would pull back, as more blood poured from her into the snow.

Finally, he?d stare into her eyes for a few heartbeats, a dark smile playing over his maw, as her fresh blood dripped from his white fur. He would then retreat away from her, a few steps to watch the efforts of his hard work. To watch her take her last and final breath, he would sit back on his haunches, and stretch his neck forward to lap at some of her blood on the ground, enjoying the strange and foreboding taste.

Asheni would watch, pain lacing through her bodice as her tormentor approached and then he was upon her. She screamed, her body thrashing against the snow, staining it a fierce red. The audible crack and snap of her bones beneath his teeth, it tore her apart. Violent, agonized screams ripped from her throat, tears spilled from crystalline eyes. Why? Why? What had she done to deserve such cruelties? The wretched scream crashed through her hard and fast as he snapped another limb. Her teeth gnashed together, body flailing, writhing, blood and vomit spilling from her maw as agonizing waves of pain crashed over her. Her abdomen she watched a string of her intestines leave her body before blinding white captured and stole her vision. The agony too much for the two-toned healer. A scream, loud and long of utter pain ripped from her larynx until her throat bled and her voice was raw. She twitched violently, the earth fading in and out of her vision. Teeth sunk into the cords of her neck and the dame, whose body was slowly drifting into a world of blissful numbness could do little more than whimper. "I'm sorry...Crusade....Cifer. I love you..." Her words would die on a strangled gurgle of blood and for the last time, pretty blue eyes would fall shut. -Asheni is deceased- Speech,

Her screams would illicit such a calm response in him, and he would watch as her breathing slowed. She had done nothing to him to deserve this. She had simply become the blunt end of his rage. The snow would fall to the ground faster now, almost as if nature felt the loss. As the words left her maw, his ears would angle towards her, taking in her last words. How interesting, even in agony, she was speaking of love as if it existed, in more than just the minds of the weak. Such a weak creature surely deserved what she had gotten.

As the wolf before him took her last breath, he would stand and nose her, staining his muzzle further with her blood before turning on his hind legs, and walking away, disappearing into the snowy horizon. He would leave nothing but a scent, a corpse, and paw-prints fading in his wake, as the falling snow covered his trail.

-exit Creedance-

~*~ It was a good hour or two before any other lupine form was seen in the area. The first snowfall of the Autumn had come down in clouds. The summer thaw was over. Soon any green outside of the evergreens would be a memory. Ice was creeping over the rivers and streams, the birds were heading south, all was once more turning to the frozen glaciers and endless icy hills. And surprisingly, Gargoyle was happy to see it so. The winter fit him - all it's hardships and dangers and beauty. It was Glaciem's true form. And Gargoyle wanted to be the first to leave his prints in the snow. He'd already patroled the giant Glaciem Lake, now he headed for the southern border. He needed to check the passes. Some would be closed off with the falling snow, and so less needed to be watched, but others would still remain clear. All the lightness of heart, all the ease of movement vanished from the wolf as he reached the southern fringe. As soon as the scents reached him. Asheni. And Blood. "No..." Quicker than his own heartbeat, his paws drummed a warsong through the fresh snow. The grey sky overhead rumbled and rolled. The color of it blurred the line between eath and sky, but somewhere in the middle the massive dark form of the Glaciem Chief recieved the pool of blood and the remains that lay inside it. Who can say what tortured thoughts and emotions had their way with the male as his paws stepped into the ring of his pack mate's life flow? Usually Gargoyle's features were impassive, lifeless, and bland. It was only in his most dangerous times that something showed in his features. After many a slow, cold second ticked by, his face began to change. His lips twitched and tremored, peeling back with a dry, rasping breath to reveal rows of white fangs. His nose and brow twisted and contorted into a hellish snarl. His tattered ears fell flat against his skull, while his thick black hackles raised as though to take their place. And his eyes... those blank lizard eyes changed, becoming the venomous pools of dragon bile. They glowed and shuddered with a light that seemed to come from below. Had any other creature appeared to behold the scene, they would've sworn that it had been the dark male who'd killed the she-wolf. He was a murderer. A killer. A satist! Who could doubt it after seeing that look in his eyes? Well they wouldn't have been wrong. He had been all that. And as soon as he found the beast who'd done this, such he would be again. Stiff legged and wild eyed Gargoyle stepped forward into the middle of the blood spill. His grey nose pressed against the she-wolf's terrified eyes. The moisture in them was already begining to cool and crystalize. He closed them gently, so that her body would not be left to stare blindly into space. The sight was enough to drive a creature into maddness. But then... one can only see so many dead and mangled bodies before they begin to develop immunity, or insanity, or a bit of both. He'd drank the blood of his victims, rolled in their entrails, oh he'd been a demon to make the devil himself proud. But that was his past life. No longer could his mind recongize those deeds as a part of him. That didn't mean he couldn't still do them, however. Gargoyle's nose now traveled over the broken form. He searched her fur for every trace of scent, begging the world to give him this. Just this. And he got it: Male wolf. Young male. Foreign origin. Gargoyle breathed it in until the aroma filled his lungs, catching in his throat. He had it. He didn't know the murderer's name or color or size or location. But he had his scent. And that would be enough. But the hunt could not begin immeidately. As much as his head pounded with the desire to. No, first he had to bury the dead. He had to. If any of his pack mates - particularly Crusade or Cifer - found such a sight. Gargoyle growled hollowly. It would certainly kill them. ... An hour more and the burial was done - a little ways away from the border, on a hill side, which, in the thaw would be covered in one of the few flower patches that were to be found in this part of the world. She was burried in the shoulder of a great mossy boulder - a head stone for the healer. Gargoyle had never been one for burials. Never. Wolves died all the time. It was kill or be killed out there and if you paused for one moment to let the saddness sink in, you were allowing yourself to be weak. Besides, what did the dead care for your pity? And yet... he'd grown more of a heart since the old days.... The Alpha had meant to leave the grave immeidately - to sprint back to the pack cave and deliver the news and hand out orders. But instead he found his paws frozen in place. Though the cold, biting wind, whipped around him, he remained as still as the stone he stood before. "Asheni, you fool... Did I not command you to keep a warrior escort when beyond our borders?" His chin shuddered and dipped down into his tawny chest fur. What did wolves normally say at such times? Nice things, right? Telling the world that this wolf had been a good person? Well, in Asheni's case there was little that he could say that would do justice to the sort of life she'd chosen to lead. And what was the point anyway? Ghosts do not have ears "If there is a heaven or paradise like Crusade believes in... you'll be there," the brute murmured quietly. "But I'd be lying if I thought I'd ever make it there. So this is where we have to say goodbye, I guess." She'd been a part of his world. A part of his family. The most beautiful soul in Glaciem. And now she was gone forever. Gargoyle had said his peice. He turned away from the stone topped hill, facing the North. But before he took off back to his family, he turned around once and looked behind him to the south. His eyes glowed again. He would pay. In the dark days, the name of 'Gargoyle' had been recognized as signifying the best torturer and exicutioner in the whole mob. Asheni's murderer would beg for death's release by the end of it. -EXIT- ~*~

Blood. Blood and so much more blood. It was a sickening scent that scent all the contents of his stomach lurching through his esophagus and out onto the frost bitten ground before him. He could handle large amounts of blood. He'd grown quite used to the scent and taste of the crimson life giving liquid. But this. No. It sent his mind reeling back into the darkest recesses of his mind. This scent. It couldn't be. A silent cry left his muzzle as legs propelled him forward to the opposite border of Glaciem. The scent was so familiar. He could distinctly remember what her blood smelled like. He remembered it from when the monster Banshee had attacked her. Asheni. His dear sweet Asheni. The harmless dame that couldn't hurt a fly. He abhorred the scent of her blood. HATED it. Despised it with every fiber of his being. He had hoped to never have smelled it again. He'd gotten revenge for the black beast and her deformed rat attacking hr. He'd challenged her and won the battle giving her a few nasty scars for her to remember him by. He'd taken his own damage but wore his scars proudly. He'd accomplished what he'd set out to do that day. This. Oh this wasn't fair! Why did he have to face the agony of smelling it again! Pain far more intense than any physical would racked his body as uncontrolled spasms rippled from his body. Mentally incapable of dealing with what he knew was happening. Black and white legs couldn't move fast enough as he propelled himself forward across the terrain. Nothing would deter him from reaching her. Whatever damnable bastard had attacked her this time would suffer. They'd rot in the deepest pits of hell! He'd rip their innards out and leave them out for whatever scavengers wanted them. He wasn't violent. Not until something precious to his very soul was destroyed. He was nothing but an alabaster and ebony blur across the landscape. Never before had the aging wolf moved so fast in his life. Not when his kids were being born. Not when he was chasing prey. Never. Never in his life had he moved so swiftly and with so much purpose, and yet he couldn't get his legs to move faster. He was too late. Far too late. All that remained was pools of her blood and the scent of two more. Pace slowed and paws dragged painfully in the dirt as emerald pools of liquid spilled over as he found the crime scene. A murder had taken place that day. A brutal and gory murder that Cifer would not forgive. Her scent was stronger than ever. It permeated the air and caused the Brave to go into a fit. Hyperventilating he slowly moved forward, gasping for air as her blood scent filled his nostrils making his stomach give another sickening lurch. Panic swept through him. Where was her body. He couldn't find it! He could only find remains of where she had drug herself to escape. Blood against the ground. Larger paw steps. Possibly her assailant. Upon further speculation Gargoyle's scent arose over the others. Still fresh. He'd been there, but where was Asheni. Was she alive? But no. There were not two sets of foot prints leading away. The scent that Gargoyle left was only his and not Asheni's. Whatever he had done to hide her body was still noticeable. It took him only seconds for his experienced eyes and nose to find her well dug grave. The Chief had the decency to give her a proper burial, but why not alert the rest of the pack to her murder? An enraged snarl left him and a cry escaped with it. Legs shook and he collapsed in front of her resting place as memories flooded his mind. Fur glistened as clear tear droplets coated the emerald lined tears flowing down his face and glistened giving it the appearance of real green tears. Never before had the brute cried. So many emotions flowing through his body at once. Snapped. That was the perfect word. Snapped. He'd been aloof at first. He couldn't figure out why the dame had taken such a liking to him, and yet she persisted to constantly bug him. She'd shown him how to play, constantly healed whatever wounds he accumulated, kept him company when he needed it and been his best friend. In turn he'd been her best friend. She taught him the first signs of how to love another and how to show feelings to an extent. He'd been painfully loyal to her. Her time in Valhalla had pained him, and yet he visited her often to show his dedication to her as a friend. Then she'd returned and Crusade had returned afterwards and Cifer finally knew true happiness. He'd also learned anger. Banshee had been given what she deserved, and Cifer would have killed her had he seen it fit, but he let her go along with her pathetic rat. He was no monster. He had hoped to never see her blood stain her pristine coat again. He had vowed to protect her from anything like that happening again, and yet he'd failed her. Oh how he had fucking failed her! Pathetic as a warrior, he couldn't even protect his best friend in a time when she needed him most. She'd died. She was dead. He would never see her smile or hear her call his name happily out from yards away as she spotted him. She wouldn't get to be an Aunt to his children. Never get to grow old with Crusade and him as they lived out their days in Glaciem. Never again for anything. She was gone. It was his fault. All his fault. My fault. My fault. The words rung in his head, making him dizzy. The brute rose to his paws and shook his head angrily, tears flowing freely from strained eyes. That scent. Her killer. Forever locked away in his memory. He would kill the beast. Take it's life and torture him. He'd torture him. A guttural sounds left his throat. Half how of pain and absolute misery and half snarl promising of revenge. The bastard would die. Feel the pain his friend felt and he would feel fear. Large amounts of fear as Cifer would go insane and take out whatever rage he contained on him. There would be no mercy. Not this time. He owed it to his friend. Perhaps he would even see her in heaven if such a place existed. If he failed. He was positive he would rot in the deepest depths of hell. He would deserve it and so much more. He had failed her. Miserably failed her. With that he tore himself away from the scene, head lowered as he galloped away already working on tracking the scent of the unknown beast. Death. Death. Death. Die. Die. Die! Eyes would carry a crazed look to them as nostrils quivered as he followed the scent. His blood sang in a chorus. A beautiful and deadly chorus that screamed for the blood lust. Vengeance! Revenge! Adrenaline screamed for it. He wouldn't be satisfied. Not until he had avenged her. Then perhaps he would rest easily when he died. Until then he would be the reaper. Constantly hunting down this pathetic soul until he stole it. Even if it was the last thing he ever did. He would steal that life. He'd make sure of it. Speech,