?No need to feel bad, no, no. I will put you back together again, you will see, you will. Be patient.? The little fiends voice carried through the forest with an eerily youthful giddiness. His chiming blabber hardly faltered as he snuffled at the mottled creature laying before him. Its once lucid pelt was smudged with dark earth and crimson blood, leaving it a rather pitiful thing. Verrϋckt was not one for pity however, and had wasted no time in nipping at it?s stomach and revealing all its gory little secrets. Now hollow and mangled, the carcass was hardly even recognizable as a hare. The exposed innards were strewn atop the snow in a vulgar disarray. This prey had clearly never been meant for food, only play. Verrϋckt knew that he had been lucky to find the thing, but he merely spat in the face of such gratitude's. Why should he bother? His best interests would likely be meet with the devils afterlife anyways.

Finally having satisfied his curiosities, he was through with his catch. Raising his head, he examined his mess. The scene was a pleasing contrast from the stark whiteness of the snow, and he bobbed his head in a jittery sort of nod. He was pleased with his work. Twirling from the mutilated corpse, he pranced a few paces away. Here he tunneled through the hoard of snowflakes, beginning to gauge a hole in the dirt. Torrents of the brown grit were cast upon his forelegs and across his face and chest, a filth hardly noticeable against his pelts peppered decor. This only pleased him further, and he leaned his weight into his digging paws until he was happy with the hole. With a lively hum, he skipped around the bloodied wonderland, dragging the graying extremities into his hollow. As the last of the organs were stored away within the earth, he collected as much of the disturbed dirt on top of his treasures as he could. ?There. Together, you see?? He danced atop the grave, flattening the horrid mound. ?I am a seedsman, that I am. I have planted a rabbit, come and see. Up and up will it grow, spawning little rabbit toes.? His maniacal tunes were lifted in a rather singsong voice, a pleasantry to his own ears. He was almost always uttering some nonsense, for he seemed to enjoy the melodies of his own tongue.

In the midst of his frolic, he caught the eye of the skeletal mass of the hare that once was. It was the only thing left of the creature, apart from the smatterings of blood, and he had nearly forgotten it already. Sashaying from his buried prizes, he placed himself beside the bony heap of skin. His shoulders dropped in a play bow, his head lowering to stare at his victim. He found it strange that it looked so forlorn. It had quite blatantly lost. Verrϋckt had won. ?Why the long face mardy bum? Do not grovel over your defeat. That is a poor sport. Bad, bad, you should be ashamed.? A trilling giggle escaped his muzzle then, his sudden breath shifting the skeletons gore flecked fur. The little brutes tail swayed rather dog-like above him, rocking his hips. Tilting his neck, he rested his cheek against the ground, orbs still locked on the dead hare. For just a moment he was still, bowed and utterly still. It did not last long. The jitters soon shoot him from his awkward stance, and his skittish steps carried him away from the rabbit as if it had suddenly lost his interest. He returned to the patch of upturned soil, sitting himself upon the cold dirt.

The slightest quivering of his nose gave way to an array of wolf scents. His eyes squinted as he spied further through the trees; into the now apparent pack lands. The thought of other wolves made him scuttle his fore-paws with glee. He loved being close to his own species, surrounded by bodies enceinte with their ulterior delicacies. They would be forbidden morsels, but perhaps he just found it nice to tease himself with the flesh he had become so strangely attached to. His muddy eyes shimmered, and his skin writhed with fatal anticipation. ?Come play with me!? He shrieked his beckon towards the packs territory, ears leaning forwards in hopes that someone was nearby.


"Speech!" - Thought

Word Count: 730

Tags: Amenti Wolves

When rabbits grew leaves and flowers grew toes, that was when the world of the unknown had come back to play. Where the flowers sang of blood and love and lost tomorrows. Where the winds knew nothing but their screams. It was where he was lost. Where she missed him. Where this wolf reminded her he had gone. Bones and ashes, lost and remembered, that was what he reminded her of. Violet eyes were unmoving as they watched the scene with in the darkness. Always was she in the darkness watching what the others did and they never seemed to be aware.

Oddities were what she thrived with. Those that could play the game of mad and be good at it. The broken belonged to her and she would collect them all. He was playing toy maker. Removing and dissecting the once meant to be food and yet she couldn?t help the smile that played across her lips. Had her heart not previously been won by the bite of her lover she would consider this male a possible suitor one the manner of business was dispelled. Alas, she was an alpha, and he was calling for her to come and meet him.

The wolf, torn between the flesh of man and woman, came to rise from the shadows. Stripping from them like leather chains that longed to forever hold their captive master. Yet they were frail things. Easy to rip away from and so they stayed sulking in their home while their master went to meet the stranger.

Her fur, was an odd mixture of gray, crushed velvet violet, and ebony. Those that looked upon her saw her as gray/purple but it was merely the odd contrast of her skin that gave her the illusion of violet fur. Bright violet eyes lingered over the mad man and she couldn?t help but allow her laughter to fill the void of silence. ?Calling for the shadows to whisk you away? Yet I thought you were having such fun playing with the morbid toy.? She said with delight. Oh it had been too long since she had felt anything but serious and for once it was enjoyable to be so carefree again. The madness was a friend at times, a sickness at others, but a friend nonetheless.

He enjoyed the cold, loved it even, but that same pleasure did not apply to the frosty powder that it so often accompanied. Its sickeningly angelic touch poisoned the trees and sent a great majority of his fury little playthings into hiding. The dastardly cleanliness masked the sweet aromas of death and decay that were often found in the breath of the forest. Indeed, Verrϋckt had never been one for the snow, and he had formed quite a repugnance towards it's foul hands. The chilled precipitation never failed to shove at his mood, but one could hardly tell such a thing. Body skittered and voice trilled, just as spiritedly as ever. The little brute was forming a hum within his throat just as his company decided to reveal themselves.

Thin lips rippled back into a toothy grin as the barbarian arose from the shadows, where she seemed to have been observing his game. Something had struck her fancy, for she laughed before either of the two had dealt the armies of speech. This only made the grin lengthen across Verrϋckts' muzzle, threatning to crack his skull in two. "A little spy I see. Yes, yes, dear shadow lurker." She was large for a she-wolf, even mistakable for a brute upon first glance. Her size was not the sole factor that laid claim to his attention however, for the subtle violet of her pelt was an anomaly he could not ignore. Utterly fascinated, he pushed himself from his haunches and swerved his way towards the stranger, twirling around her with a dangerous air of confidence. He found her eyes to be the treasures of his studies, as they were incredibly alluring to the young male. They housed the same peculiar hue that toyed with her pelt, but lacked the dulling plague of gray. A coo of wonder slithered from the goblins maw. The enticing shade reminded him of the purple shimmers on a beetles armor. "Careful now. You have beetles in your eyes, creepy crawlies in your brain will make you go horribly insane!" He squealed with amusement before tittering back to his dirt bed.

Finally acknowledging the violet hued woman's words, he let loose an amused rapture. "Shadows, shadows, ohh the shadows. Good friends, them and I. Could they whisk me, beetle-eyes, whisk away to a hellish neverland a poor and lonely fiend?" Another bout of his repetitive giggling arose then, his meager body squirming with psychotic glee. His gaze burrowed through the air, down to his bloodstained paws. He examined the drying crimson essence upon himself before snaking his glare out across the similarly marked snow. After a moment he jerked his head and resumed his mindless chatter. "Indeed, indeed, much fun was my toy, but fresh life is inevitably funner. Pretty paintings, see? What a marvelous color, so dark and so red, red, red. We painted good art, don't you think?" His voice tickled the edges of song, dripping with its childish tunes.


"Speech!" - Thought

Word Count: 495

Tags: Newt