Caged in Gold

[OOC: I noticed that this is an old thread, i hope your okay with me responding. When he speaks, try to picture it with a Russian accent]

      Paws carried him where they willed, and he did well to follow as he found himself traveling south and west, south and west. Every morning the sunlight bathed the beast in sheets of amber warmth, easing him from empty sleeps and dreams alike. As ambitious as Koloskivi was, he also found a sort of hollow pride in treading through all sorts of terrain. As though, by merely passing through, he were laying some sort of half-assed claimed itself. A shell of his former self.
But for now he made his way to the flattened land, there he would bathe himself in the suns glory.

- ♔ - Silently he would assess the terrain, finding it not so rich in life, but the aura of its life could not mesh with his own. As much as he could acknowledge the importance of having a sustainable food supply and a healthy territory, there was also that terrible nagging deep inside - anything less than theatrical and intriguing would not settle. So Koloskivi would find himself mingling through the the scattered trees, low lying brush, and metal scraps. Debris shifting under each step as the soothing ambiance around him fell upon long ears. There was nothing here for him other than meat to fill ann empty stomach, metal to throw around, and the peeking sun to warm his flesh; nothing more than a tool to fulfill his needs.

- ♔ - A fledgling robin stumbled down a winding tree as it attempted to follow its parents, weak and half-feathered wings flapping uselessly. The warning calls of its parents echoed above the beast, whose darkened gaze zoned in and focused on the easy prey. Before the fumbling chick could even make it to the ground, massive jaws lurched out and snapped shut with a sickening crunch. High-pitched screeches from the robins above rang in his ears, but their fury was naught to the wolf. His black tongue lapped and wrapped around the bite of flesh as he forced it down his throat in a messy swallow.

- ♔ - With a nonchalance that perhaps mocked the youth's death, Koloskivi continued to weave between the metal scraps, ignoring the birds as they fluttered and dove against his head. Wickedly-flapping wings and pecking beaks doing nothing but irritate the predator. After a minute or two of his unintentional followers, the beast would swing about and, with bared fangs and a deep, impatient grumbling, snapped his fangs once more, this time at the mortified parents. With terrified squawks they fluttered and fled, perching from afar to continue their verbal assaults. He fancied birds, more or less the big ones. But when it came to small woodland bird; they annoyed him very much so. Only after a few moments did he notice the presence of another whom rested by a block of scrap metal. The beast approached the female, the youthful feathered rat still dripping from his maw. "Vat is little delicate flower like your self," he rumbled. "doingk in graveyard of war?"