The other wolf had scrambled to her feet just as he did, now cringing and backing away further down the crypt. He was afraid, terrified of the big black wolf facing him down. "What are you afraid of?"
he snarled at the wolf. Had he been willing to admit it, he may have been shouting it at himself. The rage demanded release, the urge for violence choking him. Fear, weakness, imperfections and intolerable. "Didn't your father ever teach you to have a spine?"
His rose in near-hysterical laughter.
But wait... now that he was paying attention to the scent of the other wolf Loki realized that he was in fact she to judge by the enticing odor even now urging him closer. His teeth bared in a grin. "Don't you know how dangerous it is to be all alone with a stranger when you're in heat?"
he purred, stalking closer. The much softer voice was so much more dangerous than his shouting, the sound chillingly deadly. The green of his eyes seemed to blaze in the low light, the sunlight from the far away entrance glinting in them as he moved restlessly.
He was not afraid, not a coward. Not weak. The refrain raced through him, shaking him with the fury that burned in his blood. Liar, his own mind taunted him. Prove it, prove it.
