Everything inside of him had turned stone cold. He didn't want to care, nor did he in these moments. He didn't hate her, he hated where she was from, it was simple. His head stopped, ears flicking in the turns of following her tone of voice. Why did she care? He was a complete stranger who had slaughtered a wolf and just left the carcass to tend to the urges that were inside of him. Miharu was still clinging to the small sense of sanity he had in him, which was directed towards his first love Yoite. Yoite, that idiot, Miharu was doing exactly as he had done before the two boys left and yoite died in the snow. Miharu still remembered the nightmare of burying his body when he had promised him he would kill him with his own canines. With a flick of his red tipped tail he raised his head, she wasn't too much bigger than she was. Stride, no wolf's stride was like his. The sound of his paw steps were light, he had trained his whole life to lead a group of wolves who were ninja's in the terms of the fighting style they had used. Smart wolves who had met their demise when he had run away from his fate as a prince. Though she deserved an answer, Miharu didn't feel like answering her.
"I don't hate you, I hate where you are from." His monotone voice hit the air. His eyes showing nothing but an empty heart uncaring to the world. His salmon tongue went over his muzzle tasting the remaining blood of his victim. She was lucky, he wasn't feeling those urge's anymore. This was what life could do to a wolf, one who could have had a bright future. Yet was destroyed because they wanted to bestow a power on him he did not wish to have. His paws planted calmly and firmly in the ice, just in case he needed to escape from her jaws which would be fairly easy for the fast shadowy assassin. He was not normal, if that was what she was looking for. "What do you want with me, have I done, or shown you something that you have interest in?" He asked, Miharu wasn't curious, nor did he care, but it seemed like it would please her would it not?
