let's paint the town red
Head hung low so nose almost dragged along the ground, sickly green eyes flittering to and fro across the frozen wasteland. He moved with a disconnected purpouse, legs stiff and gait rocky as he made his way in no direction in particular. He needed to move, needed to leave but there was no leaving. Running was no longer an option. So skin streatched and strained above shoulder blades as they rolled and moved to absorb the shock of massive paws pressing against the frozen ground. At times it almost felt like his skin would tear, already hi spelt was patchy along his spine, shoulders and hips. Though muscles still lined his entire form there was nothing else aside from that, no a single ounce of fat left on his diminished frame. Once he had been well groomed and quite the looker but now his pelt was matted with stick, mud, burrs and other things he had yet to pick from his pelt. Black pelt now seemeda muddy brown and silver markings could barely be seen. Really his only notable feather was his green eyes and even those seemed more dull then usual.
Speech!
He wanted to be alone, silence and solitude all he craved at the moment so when the woman forced her presence on him he would halt, massive paws planting against the hard earth and immediately stance would widen, neck scrunching rather then lifting his skull to meet her gaze. She was smaller then him, by less then a foot like most but still considerably smaller. And where his frame was packed with muscles her's was more dainty and petite. What was she to him other then a mere fly and yet here she was fixating on him and forcing him to respond by barring his path. For a long moment green gaze would hold hers, unwavering and unblinking. Finally head would lift, drawing higher and higher until it was above her own. He didn't care who she was or where she came from. These were rouge lands and she was in HIS way. So as chin tipped down and head continued to raise in a constant reminder that he was in fact protecting his neck and ready to fight he would continue to stare her down. What could possibly do this to a man?
"Maybe I keep myself smelling this bad in hopes that whores like you might leave me alone." So many words it made his throat hurt as tongue forced itself to work for the first time in over six months. Tone was raspy and harsh, not at all inviting or pleasant to the audits and so his would fold to his skull nose wrinkled in disgust. She was a harlet, a worthless whore who thought far too highly of herself. Her stature alone repulsed and disgusted him not to mentioned she had ruined his walk. So for that reason alone he would take a step forward, drawing almost uncomfortably close to her in an attempt un unnerve and possibly rattle the female. He wanted her to shake, wanted her to beg and plead for him to grant her mercy. He wanted her to know he could and would kill her if it came to that.
Speech!
Sickly green gaze was unwavering, unblinking it seemed as he stared down the vile temptress before him like a rattler curled in his path ready to strike. She chose to try and make him feel uncomfortable but simply he would continue to stare at her, ears pinned back as if refusing entrance to the words that slipped from his tongue for him to hear. She seemed to not care for the harsh words he had thrown her way, instead brushing them off almost like they were a compliment. Instead she called him useful. Useful. To her? All of a sudden a sneer would stitch across his lips, vile and sickly like a poison was spreading from his throat and bubbling over jaws. Sickly. Everything about him was sickly. There was a deadness to him, a viral disease of hatred and rage boiling inside him and threading to overflow. It was almost like he couldn't filter out the emotions anymore as they washed over his face, going from that sickly sneer to a blank face with nothing more then a twitch to his upper lip. A taste for blood. He was born and raised to taste nothing else. Having tried and failed to leave that life behind him now there was nothing left but blood.
No real tangible emotion touched his face until the mention of a pack. A pack he would fit into. Eyes narrowed slowly as if waiting for her to throw in a catch or a ploy or say that she was joking. But no words followed that statement and for a long moment he simply stared at her."Tell me more." Words would start from somewhere deep in the core of the beast and rumble like rolling stones up his throat until they almost rattled through his teeth. His voice had never been pleasant before, always scratchy and rough but after the last few months of avoiding others and not speaking it was worse even. Maybe he had been born with something wrong with his throat? His remembered the goddess feeding him herbs for something when he was young but as with all those memories that didn't involve blood or training it was faded. He could grasp it no better then he could try and grab water with his paws. It just flowed past him and disappeared from his grasp.
But it seemed before she could even speak another would join them and it was then that everything went to shit. The small form that hung from the bastards teeth was the only thing wide eyes could focus on and once more it was like he couldn't move. All he could do was stare for a moment that felt like an eternity. Kaios? No he knew the man was dead? No. This was one of his bastard offspring perhaps? Offspring. Everything fell into place suddenly and a wicked smile slithered over dark lips. "The only queen I will ever bow to is the one who ripped his fathers throat out." Words were as close to a purr as could be with his scratchy voice. Massive pillars were moving suddenly, lumbering gait renewing as he moved around them to put the woman between himself and the boy. Dead green eyes turned to him as he moved past and three words slipped from his tongue. "All hail Jupiter." The smile he wore was the diseased one he had shown before and with that he would set off once more, more then willing to put this meeting behind him.
-exit Kylar-
Speech!