Dance with the devil

Alaric's attack had landed successfully as he felt his paw slam down ontop of the head and scrape downwards the face. His maws twisted in a smirk and before he could land his next attack, Atreyu had rolled onto her back in submission. “Maul! Cinder!” He called out to the cane corsos, who froze in their tracks and hauled their attacks. Alaric caught his breath before his hellfire eyes fixated on the dame Atreyu and then her little companion.

“You are the worst kind of good because you're not even great.” He spat at her cruelly, he would nod to Maul to encircle the she wolf so she couldn't just take off so soon. Alaric had some choice words for her before she scurried off to lick her wounds. “You think there are wolves worse than me?” He waited for a moment but not enough for Atreyu to answer. “Well, there are. Far worse.” He told her and he was correct. There were much less merciful wolves. Much more sadistic and torturous than he. Underneath his cold and prideful exterior, Alaric was not the worst of the worst.

“Stand up.” He spat at her again, although a little less cruelly this time. He noticed the large gash on Maul’s cheek, and rage consumed him. Yet he was calm externally. “You owe somebody an apology.” He stepped back, nodding to his companions again. Cinder released the small dog in his grip and Maul stepped back away from the she wolf. He would wait until Atreyu apologized to Maul before continuing.