Death Of An Assassin

*Morphine* · 06-04-2013, 03:26 PM

Thank you Lube ♥

Ears swiveled forward attentively as the muck gurgled over the area where the traitor had been consumed, attention hardly wavering from Cyanide?s deathbed despite her dangerous surroundings; death lurked in every corner of the marsh, had the traitor been dafter than the ice queen expected? No matter, she was meeting with a fate she welcomed just by setting foot in the swamp, and Morphine was simply rejoicing at the luck she had encountered for she had been able to watch the demise of an adversary ? with front row seats, too! If only her former superior hadn?t butt his head into places it did not belong to ruin her moment of glory.

The faint squelching of paws trudging through mud alerted the wraith to his presence, an expression of pure shock dominating her visage as metallic eyes fell upon his figure, frail with age, traversing in the direction of Cyanide. Memories of that dreadful day when the traitor had been lost to the damned Valhallans surged through her diseased mind, vividly remembering each event and the faces that had been registered there: the two Valhallans, Cyanide, Grinner, Kaien, and Nnoitra. Questions sought answers as she looked upon Cyanide?s knight in shining armor, horror filling her eyes to the brim at the realization that he was attempting to save the life of the fool who betrayed the very pack he had established! No! the wench thought as she observed his approach to Cyanide?s deathbed, Tortuga is done taking from me!

With that, she burst forwards from her vantage point, paws skidding as she levered down the short ledge before the muddy expanse that had swallowed the assassin, forcing her digits to clench as black nails grappled the grass adorning the ledge to slow her momentum and stop herself from diving face-first into the marsh. Her tactic proved to be a success for her body skidded to a halt at the base of the ledge, immediately tearing off down the short stretch of rough ground as she drew level with Cyanide?s positioning. Metallic eyes darted for her former King, now righting himself upon a patch of dry land nearest to the area that Cyanide had disappeared beneath, seemingly preparing himself for a swim in the muck. A snarl warped her countenance as he plunged into the soft substance with jaws set agape, igniting a fire within his former lackey that would not be quelled unless he were to pull the traitor out, snap her spine, and send her back to her mucky grave ? but instinct told the wraith that those were not his intentions. So quickly she hopped, cautious of her footing, closing the slight gap between she and the lanky King in a few strides until she was within close enough proximity to reach out and touch the brute. Own jaws snapped forward as she approached his rear, aiming to sink her teeth into the base of Nnoitra?s tail as he scavenged for the traitor beneath the surface. If she were to successfully grasp his tail ? any part of it ? she would yank her weight back with all the might she could muster in an attempt to pull the King from the depths of the muck, and, should he have the traitor within his grasp, she would release his tail and shove her weight forward to send him toppling into the mud right behind his companions so that both would meet with their untimely death.

Speech,

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