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Hannibal moves his muscular form through the south with ease. The phantom was sure to avoid any opposing pack territory or notorious predator dens. He worked the night and moved with glorious memories of each territory. As of now he had memorized the south and was nearly always on the hunt. Previously he hunted smaller prey for consumption but now he spent more time seeking Wolves. Hannibal was the Taskmaster of Erovrare which meant he was essentially the overlord of Slaves. He was to collect, train, and manage the bond servants within the pack. As of then they had two servants; Pari and Eulogy. It seemed as though Pari was much more reclusive and perhaps served Tyranis mostly. Eulogy had a constant flow of tasks for both Thys and Hannibal which helped keep the slave on her toes and thinned out. An exhausted slave wouldn’t run, or get far to say the least.

As the albino beast moved his way through the terrain he slithered along the brim of the Rio Grande. His tail was erect and his expression neutral. While outside of Erovrare territory he remained dominant but not horribly so. Hannibal did not want to be too big of a target. Yet, as he carried on a scent filled his nose and an alabaster brow raised. Suddenly his pale gaze was on the hunt for a Wolf who smelled of a rogue male.

Soon his greedy gaze fell upon an earthy toned youngyin wandering blissfully. The male perked up and began to trot towards the stranger. Hannibal lacked shame as he was extra hateful in the last week or so. The hustle and bustle of pups as well as a high strung alpha filled his form with stress. He needed a punching bag and perhaps the beast found his subject. As he neared the stranger the phantom stopped at about seven tail lengths away with an awful smirk. “What is a weakling like you doing lurking the night?” The male was rather forward and crude with his verbiage. There was now flowery flourish but only a lace of pure venom. “The baddies will get you.”

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