I paint my walls red with blood

He had been admiring the pelt on his floor, the dark tones mixing, blending with the Rocky surface. That's when it had hit his nose, the scent of a wolf. He hoped it was a female, so he could have a reason to kill it. But he suspected that it was male. Although it was hard to tell over the delicious scent of the fresh, coppery blood.

A man stalked in. No instant reason to hate him. His blue eyes shining with anxiety. He wondered what he was so worked about. He questioned him about the dead female, well rug and bed now, he would answer. "I do not know who she was. And her eyes where a bright emerald, beautiful, but she was a bitch, she trespassed. She was traveling alone, yes. Why do you ask dear little wolf?" He giggled, and looked at him. His eyes shining with a maniacal pleasure.

(Speech)