You could be my silver spring

Reaper was nearby the falls when Moloch came into view, cawing and flapping his wings desperately at the Bloodjaw to get his attention. The bird was sent off earlier to try and scout the area, but what it saw was something unforgivable. "What is it Moloch?" Reaper's melodic voice rang out in curiosity, he tilted his head. Moloch continued to call, now landing into of the Bloodjaw's head and pecking annoying. "Ow! Stop it this at once!" Reaper protested but to no avail. The bird shot off from his head and back into the sky, as if beckoning the wolf to follow. Reaper rolled his seagreen eyes and followed the bird deeper into the woods and closer to the falls. The closer he got, the more familiar of a scent entered his nostrils. It was Mae. Immediately Reaper's paw steps grew quicker but he stopped in his tracks when the scent of blood and a lone wolf filled his nose. "What the.." he muttered, sniffing the air. "Mae..." He uttered and began trotting as fast as he could towards her smell.

When he arrived he came up on loosing battle. Mae was standing, injured, against a lone brown male. The make was bleeding, she was bleeding. She was bleeding. Mae was bleeding. Bleeding. Something in Reaper snapped. What would usually be a calm rational mind flipped a much darker switch. Immediately the Bloodjaw would charge in towards the lone male. He let out a rippling snarl, loud and animalistic, as he lunged himself at the lone wolf. His maws sought the scruff of the male and obtained it effortlessly, thanks to Mae distracting the male. He gripped it with full force, blood pouring from how hard his grasp was. Reaper pulled back with full force, dragging the male with him as he forced the brute to the ground.

Reaper's paws slammed down on the chest of the male and he let out another loud snarl. His eyes were wide with rage. All he felt was rage. Boiling, spilling over. He wanted this would dead. He took a paw and slammed it against the face of the male in a harsh slam, forcing their head sideways and down onto the ground. "I will tear out that foolish throat of yours!" Reaper screamed with rage, his gaze cold as he held the wolf down. He could feel them kicking and struggle beneath him but to no avail. The Bloodjaw had a better stance and weight on them. Reaper took now time in biting down on the throat of the wolf and shaking violently. Blood poured form the bite as the wound only grew deeper and deeper the more he thrashed. He could taste the warm blood pouring into his maws. He drank in it reveling in it. It almost tasted...good.