Bite in the butt

Alastor had never been to a desert before, but he decided very quickly that he didn't care for it. First, there was far too much sand. It was coarse and rough and it got everywhere! The second was that he could literally not hide anywhere. With a lack of any sort of foliage or shelter, he was a giant black canine silhouetted against golden dunes. You could see him coming from a mile away. Third was the sun, which sat high and bright and fat almost directly overhead. Although the winter season had chased away some of the more oppressive heat, the desert still remained uncomfortably hot, and being that he wore a thick black coat 24/7, Alastor was not a happy camper right now.

The hulking brute scowled while trudging alongside his mate, using all of his self-control to keep from grumbling in a cartoonish fashion every step of the way. Why the fuck had she chosen to come all the way out here?! For the longest while, there was literally nothing in sight—until they came across a number of hoofed prints in the sand. It looked like a herd of small equines; maybe more of the stripey horses again? Either way, Manea seemed dead set on killing one, so off they went! After some time walking, they found a herd of wild asses, the dopey and loudly braying creatures irritating Alastor for reasons he couldn't explain. Manea shrugged and suggested they have fun with them since they were here anyway. Alastor gave her a wicked grin and a nod. Maybe some bloodshed would take his mind off of this miserable place—and maybe it'd give him an excuse to tumble about on the dunes with his mate for a while.

With no way for them to hide or use stealth for this hunt, Alastor settled on what he did best: brute force and shock tactics. The wolf bared his fangs in a snarl as he rocketed toward the asses, large paws kicking up a cloud of yellowish sand as he ran straight for the nearest ass. The animal didn't have a chance to react, its reflexes far too slow to even register the behemoth before Alastor was taking its legs off the ground with his jaws around its throat, crushing down on bone and muscle and sinew while he swung the ass like it weighed nothing into the air to come slamming back down into the ground, dead before it even made impact. Empty sharklike eyes leered at the rest of the herd that had realized they were under attack and began braying in panicked confusion, blood dripping from his muzzle. There were four left. He intended to make sure none remained.


"Alastor"