Where oh where had his ivory harlot gone? He would track her trail down with haste, his superior genes putting even the blood hound to shame. Though once he had found the path the monarch would not be pleased. The overpowering aroma of blood, gore, and intercourse would cause nostrils to flare, sleek pelt bristling into bunches of ebony spikes. An unknown male's scent began drowning out his harlem's perfume, and his stomach would begin twisting itself into knots, thick liquid threatening to climb up his throat. She was a slave, and of course, he had expected her to wander into the paws of a genetically capable being eventually. Had the encounter ended with bloodshed? Kusugra needed to get there now before it was too late.
The ebony feline would suddenly bust into a sprint, lengthy legs carrying his agile physique at speeds matched by none. When he finally arrived, it seemed as if he had been winded, for he could not breath while staring at the scene before him. He was frozen, pale gaze rolling over the battered and destroyed carcass of his ivory lover, pools of crimson surrounding her petite frame. He would continue to stare blankly in disbelieve, a few minutes rolling by before the man could bring himself to look away. By this time anger swelled heavily within his icy core, thoughts of vengeance and murder already taking place in his mind. Whoever did this would certainly pay for it, because the feline would not stop until justice had been served. The attacker was long gone now, but his scent lingered just enough for Kusugra to embed it into his brain. If it were to ever cross his senses again, he would go berserk, as if he had been brainwashed to destroy everything acquiring that scent.
He would take gradual strides toward her, coming to a halt at her side so that he was looming over her mangled carcass. Frosty eyes would examine her injuries, gaze rolling over every laceration and bruise so that he could fully understand the trauma she endured before dying. The thoughts only enraged the seething feline more, fueling his new hatred for the unknown murderer. "Me siento, marfil. Yo deber?a haber protegido m?s largo, pero no estabas a cadge f?cilmente. Son ahora gratis a trav?s de la muerte, tal y como hab?a prometido, mi amor. Eres libre. " ("I am so sorry, little ivory. I should have sheltered you longer, but you were not one to easily cadge. You are free now through death, just as I had promised, my love. You are free.") He would whisper to the babe with false hope that she could somehow hear him, despite how she felt about him. The monarch had known from the beginning that she would be hard to suppress, and despite the odds she had beaten him at his own game- she had set herself free.
Somewhere deep within the wicked man pride dared to slink to the surface from the thought, gaze still examining her deceased body. Perhaps she had been far more fearless and self motivated than he had originally thought? The ebony feline would pull the woman's scruff into his mouth, and with a swift motion he would swing his head toward his right, throwing the stiff weight up and onto his back without much effort. He had the capability to drag animals twice his size up enormous trees, so this feat was painless. He would make his way back to his home, the algome prarie, where he could bury his harlem and give her the proper burial she deserved as a woman beneath the monarchs rule. Rage seethed from his pores as thoughts of destruction accompanied his journey home.
-EXIT KUS WITH ILIJA'S BODY-
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