Treat me cruel

Xephyris was alerted to the sound of heavy padfalls brushing over the forest floor. He hoped it was not a packmate following him, wondering what he was up to. But then again, they didn't really seem to keep track of him much. He was merely a ghost amongst them. His silvery, blue-specked eyes would instead land upon a large brute, blood-red markings of the devil upon the man's pristine white coat and the glare in his eyes was venomous. A shudder ran through Xephyris' body, as a wide grin spread across his mug. Now this was more like it. He had a feeling things were about to get interesting.

His tail rose into the air like a flag of dominance as the male approached him, words passing his lips in a hard and even tone. The younger male took on the posture of a wolf stalking prey, moving slowly around the larger brute, his eyes full of amusement. So, he thought the wolves of Sonticus were a bunch of fools? A harsh laugh escaped him. "That's fine... since I'm not anything like them," he rumbled with a flash of his fangs, looking ready to take a chunk out of the stranger. But, he paused in his stride, facing the older man head on. "You look like you just stepped out from the pits of hell," he stated, amusement still upon his face, "Surely you must be up to no good..." Though the older male had hardly said a word yet, it led Xephyris to believe that he knew things about Sonticus and clearly thought them to be fools. He wondered why, and if he'd been hoping to find a fool here in these woods, what exactly was he up to?