Tighten Your Grip

A sly smirk came across his features as it appeared that his ruby eye began to shimmer slightly from the sun that had peaked from the snow-covered branches. He sat on his haunches. "My name is Feral, my Queen, and who may I have the pleasure of wandering into on this day," A demonic chuckle erupting from his vocals, but not bad enough to make her fight him. The last thing he wished for is to hurt someone like she, except for other rouge and or pack males, who might not be his own someday.

Ears flinches as he heard the sound of crows cawing the distance. He closed his eyes as the only color that was around them were the black rings that wrapped around his eye lids. His claws dug into the tender ground, leaving a fresh print. The smell of the burning from underneath the ground caused his nostrils to burn, but that did not keep him from leaving his eyes closed. His right eye soon opened when a crow landed on his shoulder, looking at the brute with his deep ebony orbs that were no bigger than a marble.

Feral did take a liking to crows, and if they ever done something to take his kill, or had tried to hurt him, he would leap and tear open into the birds body, causing strips of meat and gut to lay around his body. That was something that satisfied the male gratefully. He soon opened his orbs completely again and looked back at the grey colored female.