The Player Might get played

Happiness was not something that this coloured brute knew. Pleasure, for sure. But actual happiness? He did not care about anyone in this world but himself, and to some that was not living at all. But to him, to him it was the only thing. Charaz thought very highly of himself, and knew himself to be a better wolf than any out there. He didn't come to placed to explore, he came seeking pleasure and that alone. He was one sex-crazed fool who knew nothing else, and didn't feel at a loss for it. Everything was perfect for him, this game that he played. Because that is all it was to him, one big game. Everyone he met was their own pawn, and he was the mastermind of it all. While he had run into a few who played games of their own, his was the only one worth winning.

The black beach was interesting indeed, sand wasn't usually found in this hue. It cling to his orange legs and paws, stubbornly seeking refuge there. Huffing his irritation at the tiny grains, he knew that no matter how hard he shook himself that they would not let him go. Giving up, his gray eyes scanned the horizon, picking up the shadowed form of a wolf who was unmistakeably a female. Smirking, he picked his way down the shore line, eyes locked on his newest pawn. "Romance isn't really my thing, but a long walk on the beach would do just fine." He bellowed in his low baritone, that lopsided smirk not leaving his maw.