My devil danced with his demon.

*Dexter* · (This post was last modified: 12-27-2013, 12:09 PM by Dexter.)

Dexter

He stood. A majestic beast cast under the light of the moon, the snarling sliver smiling down viciously at him, a long time past as he remained still as a stature a few paw steps away from the border of Glaciem. Deep, silent breaths escaped the warm cavern as clouds rose thick towards the sky and vanished soon after. Dexter pondered why exactly he had come here, he mulled the reasons over in his skull carefully before he would hope to be approached, the land was thick with the scents of wolves, strong and bold the traces were everywhere before him.

After he had his fill of standing, the speckled ghost sat heavy muscled haunches on the snow, he could feel his weight flattening the cold, frozen water beneath him, and inwardly smiled at the delight of destroying something with no effort at all, though he couldn't actually smile, if a wolf happened upon him sitting there with a shit eating grin on his face, they probably wouldn't be too keen on the idea of conversation. He had lost weight over the course of what winter had happened already, a few pounds slimming off his mid section, more muscle had thickened along his legs and his chest with the annoying task of survival.

The moon basked over the deliciously dangerous man, his spine bristled naturally, a sharply jagged razor, surrounded by spots of darkness. These spots were the gods way of reminding him he is forever cursed with darkness himself, holes in his coat silently show the holes in his sanity, though you'd never know. Attentive on the inner workings of the lands before him he sat patiently, still as stone.

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