cold skin

TABLE & CODE © SKELLE 2021
"Speech!"
Macabre was itching for another spar. He’d caught the bug early on with spars with his siblings and some of his packmates, like Eraithus and his mentor, Misery, but it wasn’t enough. The victory he’d achieved at last with that Fenmyre boy - a big wolf twice as large - had only further fueled his unevenly-tempered ego. It was a fire stoked by the family name and his near-obsessive desire to be stronger, better, faster than anyone he knew. He loved his brothers and sister dearly, but what was life without a bit of competition? The children were practically slated against each other since birth. It was basically an instinct to him to run about, place a mask on his face to twist other’s minds and flavor his words, and then act completely different towards somebody else. He loved acting kind and fair. It was great to mimic emotions he barely gave to anyone but close family.

His fire-stoked mercilessness only intensified against the lower ranks of Habari - in particular, the slaves. He’d heard of one by word of mouth - didn’t his mother punish the skeleton-patterned woman when she escaped? - and decided to seek her out for himself. The speckled child ventured through the woodland, unsure if this was her normal area or if he’d need to hunt for her elsewhere. A devious little smirk crept onto his lips, glowing silver eyes scanning through the slits between trees. No, he had no intentions of hurting her, but he knew she couldn’t say no to a spar. She was below him, after all. She had to listen.

Mac padded further into the woods, his puppy fur still soft yet beginning to fade in favor of a more mature pelt. His developing muscles brimmed on his limbs as he stood and paused, ears perked and swiveling for any sign of the woman he wished to play with.

"Hello?" He called out. His tone was curious and childlike, of course. But that undertones indicated that the woman didn’t have much say in the matter. She was obligated to play with him, a royal Klein child.