Sericea paced impatiently along the edge of the rocky cliff, her claws tapping a staccato rhythm on the obsidian surface as her keen gaze swept over the small herd of shaggy black sheep grazing in the young pine forest below. Her tail flicked side to side, betraying the restless energy that thrummed through her slender frame. Something was wrong with one of the ewes. Even from this distance, Sericea could see the animal trailing behind the others, her movements stilted and clumsy. With ears perked forward, and eyes squinted to slits, she studied the sickly sheep with an intense focus.

The ewe's thick wool hung in matted clumps, and a froth of mucus dripped from her nose and mouth. Her rheumy eyes were glazed with pain and exhaustion. Without knowing what was wrong with it, she couldn’t help but come to the conclusion that the ewe posed a threat to the rest of the herd in some capacity. Sericea's lips curled back in a pensive frown as she leaned forward, resting her front paws on a jagged rock. Her claws flexed against the rough surface as a low growl rumbled in her throat. She knew what needed to be done. That sickly ewe was a liability, a weak link that could bring disease and death to the rest of the herd.

"Sericea Praetor-Inferos"

Zagan had been following Sericea through the pine forest. He was interested in her restless behavior- the way she paced the rocky cliffside, nervous energy radiating from her in palpable waves.

Something in the forest had her fixated- she didn’t even notice him stalking her from the shadows- didn’t hear him approach from behind until he was standing beside her. “Sericea,” He broke the silence, his voice low and quiet as he called her name.

He surveyed her for a moment, his gaze soft yet analytical, as he tried to decipher what had her so restless. He followed her line of vision next, peering down into the forest below. The sheep? They were grazing in their corral, oblivious to the wolves watching them from above.

Oh.

The sick ewe was easy to pick out- it moved slowly and hesitantly, its head lowered, its body not responding like the others. Its belly looked distended too, but not in the way a pregnant ewe’s belly would. It was ill.

“What will you do with it?” He asks, shifting his attention back to the crimson girl. It needed to be separated from the herd and slaughtered. But was the naive, sweet-hearted Serciea capable of that?

"Zagan Saxe"

Sericea whipped her head around at the sound of Zagan's voice, momentarily startled out of her intense focus. She hadn't even noticed his approach, so consumed was she by the dilemma presented by the sickly ewe. Her vivid green eyes met his, wide and searching, expecting to find some sort of input in the dilemma that presented before them. "Zagan," she acknowledged with a curt nod, her voice tight with barely contained agitation. She turned back to the herd, leaning forward once more with an intense, predatory focus. Her claws dug into the obsidian rock, scoring thin lines in the glassy surface.

"It's sick. Contagious, most likely," Sericea said bluntly, not taking her eyes off the ailing sheep. She tilted her head, studying the animal with a critical gaze. "It will spread its disease to the rest of the herd if left unchecked.” She paused, her ears flicking back as she considered the unpleasant but necessary course of action. "It needs to be culled. Removed before it's too late." Sericea's voice was cold and detached, but there was an undercurrent of uncertainty, a hint of doubt in her feminine features.

She glanced at Zagan out of the corner of her eye, gauging his reaction. Would he approve of her assessment?

"Sericea Praetor-Inferos"

Sericea’s assessment of the sickly ewe was spot on- she knew what needed to be done, and was ready to take action. Good. Zagan straightened himself up, standing with his usual confidence- relaxed, but purposeful. His gaze moved back to her, settling on her face- steady and unwavering, as he assessed her expression.

There was a hint of uncertainty in her gaze- a flicker of hesitancy that made him question her ability to carry out the task. In the face of her uncertainty, Zagan stood as a pillar of strength- his shoulder jutting out to press into hers- his presence meant to settle her uneasiness. “Then let’s go.” His lips twisted at the corners- a brief flicker of emotion- as he was excited by the thought of slaughtering something with Seri. He imagines her little body coated in blood and sinew- her lithe tongue cleaning the sheep out of her claws- the little smirk she might have after tearing it apart.

Stalking down the mountainside, Zagan’s movements are purposeful and deliberate- he’s not trying to conceal himself as they approach the sheep herd- but he moves with a predator's grace. One that prevents spreading panic in the herd. “Go on, Seri.” He commands, cocking his head in her direction. “Separate the sick one.” He falls back, waiting for her to complete the task.

"Zagan Saxe"

Sericea felt a surge of confidence as Zagan pressed his shoulder reassuringly against hers, his solid presence bolstering her resolve. She took a deep breath, squaring her narrow shoulders as she rose to her paws. "Right. Let's do this," she said with a determined nod, her acidic green eyes glinting with a newfound sense of purpose.

She followed Zagan down the mountainside, picking her way carefully over the jagged rocks and gnarled tree roots. Sericea's movements were graceful and deliberate, her paws barely making a sound as she stalked through the pine forest. She kept her body low to the ground, her fluffy red fur blending in with the russet-hued undergrowth.

As they approached the herd, Sericea's focus narrowed to the sickly ewe. She could smell the stench of illness wafting from the animal, a foul miasma that made her nose wrinkle in disgust. Her muscles tensed in anticipation, coiled like springs ready to release. At Zagan's command, Sericea darted forward, her lithe body a crimson blur as she wove through the startled sheep. She singled out the ailing ewe with laser-like precision, herding it away from the rest of the flock with a series of quick, calculated movements. The ewe bleated weakly in protest, its rheumy eyes wide with fear as Sericea nudged it away, feeling the pulse of anxiety racing through her own veins. The other sheep scattered in confusion, their hooves thundering against the obsidian soil as they fled from the encroaching threat. Sericea paused for a brief moment, her heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and dread. She peered back at Zagan, seeking his reassurance.

"Sericea Praetor-Inferos"

He watched Sericea dart into the pasture, every step measured and controlled. It wasn’t surprising, but Zagan felt a rush of pride as he watched her- she kept her cool amid the chaos- using her training to separate the sick ewe from the herd.

Once the healthy members of the herd scattered to the edges of the pasture, Zagan stepped in. The sickly ewe was already starting to tire- its steps growing more erratic with each passing moment. A predatory snarl escaped his throat as he surged forward, positioning himself in front of the ewe. For a fleeting moment, he locked eyes with it- daring it forward with a low, commanding growl.

Of course, it tried to pivot and change direction, but it was too late. With Seri at its flank and him at its front, there was nowhere to turn. With another growl, he gave Seri the signal to initiate the kill. Then, he lunged forward, and grabbed onto the ewe’s right shoulder- sinking his saber fangs deep and shifting his weight to his hind end to prevent it from getting away.

"Zagan Saxe"

Sericea felt her heart quicken as Zagan gave the signal, his growling command sending a shiver down her spine. She lunged forward in perfect synchronicity with him, her jaws clamping down on the ewe's hindquarters as Zagan's fangs sank into its shoulder. The sickly animal let out a pitiful bleat, its legs buckling under the combined weight of the two wolves.

Sericea dug her claws into the ewe's matted wool, feeling the heat of its feverish body beneath her paws. She adjusted her grip, her teeth tearing through flesh and sinew as she worked to bring the struggling creature down. The coppery taste of blood flooded her mouth, and she fought the urge to gag, steeling herself against the grim necessity of their actions.

As the ewe's struggles grew weaker, Sericea glanced up at Zagan, her eyes wide and seeking reassurance. She saw the fierce determination in his gaze, the unwavering strength that guided his every move. Drawing courage from his presence, Sericea redoubled her efforts, her jaws clamping down with renewed force.

"Sericea Praetor-Inferos"

Trapped between the two of them, the sheep was becoming a mangled mess of sinew and carnage- blood spilling on the forest floor- coating Zagan’s chest and forelimbs, which heightened the adrenaline coursing through his body. His muscles were growing tense beneath his pelt, his instincts flaring, the hunger to kill all-consuming.

He glanced at Seri, drawn to her in this moment of ecstasy. The clarity in his eyes was gone now- replaced by a malevolent light that no longer reflected the cool, calculated desire to cull for the good of the herd.

This was just one of his many vices. It wasn’t just the kill he craved- but the destruction that came with it- the twisted satisfaction of violence.

In its final moments, the sheep started to panic- the scent of fear heavy in the air, igniting the space with energy. It was the rhythm of a hunt- the synchrony of an impending kill. And Zagan savored every second of it- perhaps too much. He let his guard down, giving the sheep an opening to swing its head in his direction, stabbing into his shoulder with one of its spiraled horns. A sharp yelp left his jaws.

Perhaps it was a good thing- the pain forced Zagan into a clearer state of mind. With a snarl, he shoved his weight forward, trying to throw the sheep onto the ground, where Seri could finish it off before he spiraled deeper into his depravities.

"Zagan Saxe"

Sericea felt Zagan's weight shift as he slammed into the ewe, driving it to the ground in a tangle of flailing limbs and matted wool. She saw the flash of pain in his eyes as the sheep's horn gouged his shoulder, heard the sharp yelp that escaped his jaws. A surge of protective fury welled up inside her, mingling with the adrenaline that already coursed through her veins.

With a snarl of her own, Sericea lunged forward, her jaws clamping down on the ewe's exposed throat. She felt the animal's pulse flutter wildly beneath her teeth, the frantic beat of its heart as it fought for its last breaths. Sericea's eyes met Zagan's over the dying sheep, a moment of shared understanding passing between them. She saw the darkness that swirled in his gaze, the hint of something feral and unhinged lurking beneath the surface.

It both thrilled and terrified her.

With a final, wrenching twist of her head, Sericea tore out the ewe's throat, feeling the hot gush of blood over her muzzle as the animal went limp beneath her. She released her grip, stepping back on shaky legs as she surveyed the carnage they had wrought. The ewe lay in a crumpled heap, its glassy eyes staring sightlessly at the overcast sky.

"Sericea Praetor-Inferos"

The air between them thickened as Zagan took a step back, the weight of his gaze settled on Seri- hyper-focused and enthralled as he watched her follow through with the kill. His bi-colored eyes were wide, unblinking, and had a frantic edge to them- there was something unhinged in the way he watched her- something unnatural. Something dangerous.

His excitement heightened when she ripped out the ewe’s throat, splattering blood in his direction, and coating herself in vicious sinew. His lips started to twitch, his jaw clenching, his quills bristling across his scruff. His expression twisted with a manic intensity- one that was wild and unpredictable. He was fighting the urge to step forward and…

He didn’t exactly know what he wanted to do. But it wouldn't be good for Seri- that, he did know.

Taking a shallow breath, Zagan forced his attention away from Seri. “Let's drag it out of the pasture.” He didn't wait for her to agree- he was already moving forward and grabbing one of the legs to drag it away. He needed a moment to collect himself- to suppress the manic hunger swirling inside of him.

Once they were out of earshot of the herd, Zagan stopped dragging the carcass, and turned his attention back to Seri. His gaze was a bit clearer now. “We can collect the wool to make blankets.” He said, while unsheathing an extra blade for her to use. Holding the blade in his jaws, he extends his neck out to her, prompting her to take it from him.

Once she takes the blade, Zagan places his paws over the hind end of the ewe, to hold it in place for her. “Avoid cutting its belly open… I don’t want worms on me.” His lips twist into a smirk, before his expression shifts to a scowl. "Damn thing got me before it died." He muttered under his breath.

Now that the high of the kill was wearing off, the pain in his shoulder was more noticeable- blood oozing from the wound- prompting him to lap it up with his tongue.

"Zagan Saxe"

Sericea took the blade from Zagan's jaws, her paw pads gripping the smooth bone handle. She met his gaze, noticing how his eyes seemed clearer now, the manic intensity fading into something more focused and controlled. But she couldn't shake the memory of that wild, dangerous look - it lingered in her mind, both unsettling and strangely alluring.

With a nod of acknowledgment, Sericea turned her attention to the dead ewe. She carefully began cutting away the matted, bloodstained wool, her movements precise and methodical. As she worked, Sericea's thoughts wandered to the horns - curved and wickedly sharp, they would make excellent tools or even weapons with some modification.

"I wonder... the horns could be useful too," Sericea mused aloud, pausing her wool harvesting to examine one of the spiraled protrusions. "Maybe we could make something with them." Her eyes glinted with a spark of inspiration as ideas took shape in her keen mind. But of course, as he brought attention to the wound he sustained- she couldn’t help but feel drawn to the blood that seeped down his shoulder. Allowing her acidic gaze to linger for a moment, she drew closer to him. Without fully realizing what she was doing, she leaned in closer, her muzzle hovering over his injured shoulder. The coppery scent of his blood mingled with his natural musk, creating an intoxicating aroma that made her head swim.

"Let me..." Sericea murmured, her voice low and breathy- slowly pushing his muzzle out of the way with her own. Before Zagan could respond, she dragged her tongue slowly across the gash, the taste of his blood flooding her senses.

"Sericea Praetor-Inferos"