Death Of An Assassin

Cyanide had just turned two when the howl careened through the air, a demand, a call for her presence. Her two toned dial would turn, eyes sharp and keen, missing nothing. Her analytic mind broke everything down, the terrain she had mesmerized, the scents of her pack mates, she recognized and analyzed them all near subconsciously. The call was familiar, a demand, a cry, another victim, another life. They would command her and she would obey, a silent shadow, a stalking phantom, a reaper of death itself. Talons scraped the rocks beneath her and she climbed to where the cry had come from. The entire pack awaited her, watching silent and eager. Her King stood proud, regal and unreadable as always. One of Cyanide's dearest friends. Without a word she would dip her maw in greeting, a bow to show his nobility. Before she could rise she knew what next would fall, a name, an assassination and they would eagerly await her acceptance. A celebration would occur that she would vanish from, and she would not return into the targets blood stained her pelt.

"Adyrion." That snapped her head up to attention. A breech of protocol. A break in the routine, the assassin was knocked off her rocker, head snapping up, two toned eyes locking with that of her King. What madness was this? Adyrion was one of their own, a hunter, did he expect her to assassinate him in front of everyone, to slaughter one of their own in cold bold. Her harsh training demanded she obey, her remaining sense of honor and decorum recoiled at the thought. All of these thoughts flew through her brain in a split second. The hunter called would step forward, a bird trapped within his jaws. He stood beside the king and dropped the avian corpse. A falcon. It was a falcon. Her brain quickly pieced together what was happening and utter shock settled upon her maw, her jaw falling slack.

"As is tradition, when a soldier brings back the corpse of a falcon, they may choose a mate. Adyrion has chosen you Cyanide... Congratulations." Cheers would erupt around them near deafening, but her eyes would linger only upon the male grinning triumphantly. For once every coherent, analytic thought dropped from her brain like lead weights, her focus completely on her mate.

Cyanide registered pain in the sensitive nerves of her neck, and the sudden burning sensation of the lack of oxygen in her lungs. her thin, loathe corpse was being dragged upward. Someone had found her worth saving aside from Adyrion. her legs swiveled beneath her, aiding whoever it was in dragging her back to the surface. As sweet air met her fur she sucked in a much needed, greedy breath and her dual gaze snapped open, landing on a wolf she didn't think she would ever see again.

"Nnoitra."