The Devil Went Down To Georgia

The dark male waits patiently at the border of his sister’s pack, wishing to show his respect for her new Alpha rank with his actions. Besides, he is creature of the night and revels in any chance he gets to spend out in it. Bright, white, moon-like eyes watch the ship for the familiar, pale form of his sister and is greeted by it in short order. A grin splits his maw as he stands and, when she is close enough, he offers her a deep, formal bow.

As he straightens Morbid’s deep bass voice fills the air as he says, “Bloderina. "Fortuna arridet audacibus et cruentis." The smile turns devilish as his pale eyes turn to the dried blood on her maw. She invites him in and Morbid is swift to step over the line and follow after his sister. As for telling her of his travels, a deep, regretful sigh drops his lips as he rumbles, “Ah well, you know how it goes. There are always those out there who are too stupid to comprehend what we are capable of.”

This time a dark chuckle fills the air as he silently pads after Lurid, saying, “But do not worry, I took my time with them, made them regret every choice they ever made, and left them flayed behind me. I would have brought you the pelts as an apology for being so late but it would have taken too long to dry them.” Morbid fondly remembers the time he spent with those wolves, the way it felt to break their toes and lick away their tears of fear. A stirring in his stomach drags his attention away from the memory.

With a deep chuckle he asks, "Quomodo vales, mea Sanguinis?” Pale eyes turn to his sibling’s form, lifting a brow in question as he asks his question.


"Morbid Amarix" | "Latin"