I am the cry

He had spent days wandering aimlessly through the lands, finding life, green lush tree's, ice and wind. Here, there was nothing. It was a wide expansive of lifeless earth, paved with cracks in what once was a thriving plain of some sort, one that housed plants and creatures. Once, water was here, most likely where the cracks lay, swallowed up by the thirsty earth, slipping quickly into the jagged marks.

The beast stood. Entranced by the beauty of this naked place. It was near silent, save for the howling of the wind, the land around the strip was full of life, you could see the colors, hear the movement, though the dead, lifeless earth below made him feel somehow, more intact with himself. The brute closed his eyes while the wind seemed to take him away, the darkness in him seemed sated with the fact that he was alone. And the only thing alive.

He was by no means hidden, his dark pelt was dusted with a faint white, a gentle sprinkle of ash. He was evil incarnate, hidden by a facade of a gentle, cold killer. It didn't seem like much of a difference at first, but one is a necessity, an art, and the other is a sport. He took a deep breath as he decided to walk the lonely road that was before him. He knew not where he was, nor where he was going, but he was sure that where he ended up, there would be blood.