Do It For Your Name

The wind whipped through his silver fur as he stepped closer to the girl. He made it a point to be violent to strangers unless they helped him, and she was far from an exception. "Careful. Might fall." He grinned, his tail flicking behind him as he moved closer to the girl who seemed lost in thought. She was a suitable bitch, hardly capable of bearing his whelps, but still capable of being his plaything. "What's a little bitch like you doing all the way out here?" He asked, the grin spreading over his disgusting black gums. He stepped closer, teeth bared in his grin, ready to grab her should she try to run. She either flung herself into the ocean or she let him have his fun. Fighting was not an option against someone with such a blood-lust as his.

Feanor was used to having his way, those who opposed him suffered severe consequences, and in some cases didn't live to tell the tale. He felt no remorse for children or the elderly when he attacked them, no hesitation when he tore a pups head from it's body. He was pestilence, war, famine, and death.

"Speech"
'thoughts'