Blood Moon Date Night

Scylla's wicked grin told him all he needed to know, and before he could ask any questions, the slate and cream fae just told him to come in guns blazing when she distracted him, and then the game was afoot. She brushed her side against his and was off like a shadow through the night, heading right for the group of brutes. Saracyn gave a little quiver of enjoyment from her contact and just breathed a sigh as he began to stalk his way through the darkness, keeping below the crests of the ruins to remain hidden as he crept closer to the trespassers. He didn't know what sort of distraction Scylla had in mind since she'd spared him all of the details, but he figured he'd likely know the signal when he saw it. As the dire brute lurked around the darkness just out of range and downwind from the intruders, piercing cerulean eyes watching the unsuspecting wolves as he waited for Scylla's signal to begin the fun.

The scene that unfolded before him was... not what Saracyn had been expecting. Scylla just came sauntering out of the shadows like some sort of harlot, all sultry grins and swaying hips and swishing her long tail. Sara watched as the brutes were immediately captivated—and then he realized why. Standing downwind of the group, Saracyn was the last to pick up on the pheromone perfume Scylla was wearing, the faux scent of a fae in heat striking his nose and triggering every synapse in his brain. A twinge of primal instinct kicked in, and for a brief moment Saracyn questioned whether or not Scylla actually was in heat or if his brain and nose were being tricked. That primal urge manifested as a deep burning lust in his core, but it also manifested as a visceral urge for violence, and these brutes that were beginning to surround Scylla fit the bill perfectly.

With where he was positioned, the quartet of trespassers were between him and Scylla, meaning as the leader reached for her, he couldn't immediately rush in to stop him. Surely Scylla had a plan for that. The other three, however... That violent urge boiled up in his core again, the heat rising as they leered at Scylla with lecherous grins. How dare they eye up his fae like that. No... not his fae, he had to remind himself. The rush of testosterone was getting the best of him. Better burn it off before it got unbearable. As Scylla had instructed him, with the brutes sufficiently distracted, Saracyn sprung from the shadows with a feral snarl, lunging for the closest wolf. The poor sod didn't even get a chance to react before the giant crimson brute was upon him, strong jaws latching down onto a hind leg and snapping his femur like a twig. The brute screamed in shock and agony while Saracyn continued his ruthless assault, sinking razor sharp serrated fangs into the soft tissue where the wolf's neck met his shoulder. Blood pooled in his mouth as Sara began to shake, thrashing the smaller male back and forth like a rag doll, shredding into his neck like a savage. One giant forepaw grabbed the screaming male's head as his jaws sank in deeper, fangs hitting vertebrae, and then he yanked hard. The brute's head snapped to the side with a sickening crunch. Sara felt the crunching of bone against his teeth and then the wolf went silent, dead before he knew what was happening.

By now, the others had turned to see their friend as he was mutilated and murdered, shock, horror, and rage mixing on their faces. Saracyn just dropped the bloodied corpse to the ground, heavy breaths raising and collapsing his broad chest as he leered like a predator at his foes. One down, three to go...

"Saracyn Mendacium"