no rest for the wicked
Dark rubies cascaded to the sudden flicker at the base of the she-wolf. He watched as the stump of a tail began to quake, the movements traveling up the girl's spine, moving into her vocal cords as she whined in excitement. His brow lifted as his head tilted to the side ever so slightly. He had to wonder how attention starved was this lost girl that she was this animated by the approach of a total stranger? He never could understand why some loved the attention and affection of others. Valkorion wasn't one to find comfort in a vulnerable or tender moment.
The muddy wolf's voice was rough, raspy, and full of a plea. She begged even before he had given her a threat. This intrigued him deeply. His facial featured rolled from curiosity to a devil's grin. "You choose life, but still, you sink," his tongue flashed across his muzzle as he spoke. "Get up, if you so choose to live," he spoke with authority. His chest pressed forward, his head held high and his tail standing out straight. She may have found him domineering, commanding, or even intimidating, but he was not threatening. No, he neutral in that regard.
Almost as quickly as he had appeared he began to slip away from her. He turned, his voice calling over his shoulder, "Come now, let us leave this tempting grave." He paused for a brief second, his eyes shifting to the corner, casting his gaze behind him. If she did not give up and follow him, he would not return for her.
Why collect this one? he pondered to himself as he waited for those few heartbeats to pass and for her to rise. I don't know, something tells me she might be of use. There was a visible roll to his shoulder as he finished the thought. Perhaps, perhaps not. The internal commentary fizzled out as he lifted his paw to ascend back over the log. "Let the darkness sleep"
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