TRASHED AND SCATTERED [M]
07-14-2013, 11:44 PM
Almost two seasons had passed since he stumbled upon the lands, two seasons that he had, wreaked havoc on the various wolves that he had encountered. Two seasons was a long time, yes, but it wasn?t long enough. Cold winter air, he felt the cold, he embraced the cold. He didn?t freeze. No, a killer couldn?t freeze. Muscles rolled back in his shoulders, his paws flexing against the cold stone, as he stared disinterestedly at the old wolf before him. Temper had flared, giving hints to his horrible mood- showing just how testy he was, how thin of ice this old man was walking on. He was dancing with the devil. He was here to kill him? This scrawny old bird, the thought brought forth a laugh from his sinister jaws. His eyes nearly dancing with fire and amusement. Oh, what would he ever do? As if the devil could not take on a wolf nearing death?s doors with age? Creedance didn?t fail to notice, that he didn?t say why he was killing him, just that he was supposedly going to kill him. He wondered what he had done, not that he doubted that he had done something, but he found himself vaguely interested in just who he had killed, raped, plundered, or hurt, that this elder was close enough too, to walk to death?s door. ?Oh please, tell me old man, are you awaiting me to beg for mercy? Are you expecting me to believe that a scrawny old bird like you can take on the devil himself?? Arrogant till his last breath, his verbose was ended with a dark chuckle, playing at the edges of the smirk that had plastered itself so well on his ivory jaws. So, this old wolf was going to let him ?ponder the mystery of why he was supposedly being killed?? Even that thought was amusing, Creedance didn?t give two shits why this brute was here. ?Tell me, did I kill your mate? Did I break your little heart? No, if I had killed the bitch you lay with, you?d already have attacked me.? His words broke off, a smile dancing on his jaws, revealing his sharp canines, stained with the figurative blood of all of his victims. Taking a deep breath, something clicked about this brutes scent, and he remembered, vividly. He remembered how angry and rageful he had been when he slammed into the black and white wolf on the northern portion of the lands and how he had torn into her relentlessly, watching as she died slowly, her attacks growing feeble, until she finally exhausted with a verbal plee, pleading her love for some unknown wolves. The weak minded female, had been nothing more than a toy- trash to be discarded and left for scavengers when he had finished with her. ?You want to know something, old bird?? His question cut through the air, his tone droll and voice monotone- indifference practically oozing from his very pores. He waited for the crows curiosity, for Creedance Voltaire had a secret to share. Speech, |