Sebastian sat inside his den, he had just dragged the carcass of a wolf he had just killed into his den. It hadn't been much of a fight, the bitch had trespassed on his land, so, she had paid for it with her life. The bitch should have been in a pack, kept prisoner, used for the sole purpose of reproduction. That's what females were for after all. He spat on the carcass and looked at it. It's fur was matted with her blood. He began to rip and tear, taking the pelt off. He was making such a mess. The floors were already stained red. Once he was done he grabbed the skin and pulled it over to an empty space on the ground. There, that would make an excellent rug. The shadows in his twisted mind laughed, and so he laughed with them, a crazy, maniacal laugh. As for the carcass, that would make a fine meal.

"Speech"

Walk | Talk | Think Rune found himself within the north once more, wandering aimlessly about in search of his sister. He had already made a trip to Valhalla in order to find Alamea and warn her about what he intended to do, and it only seemed right that he do the same for his family. Vixe was still off the map, hiding very well somewhere that he had not even the slightest clue where to look, but the last location he had known Maia to be in had been the north. He had intended to retrace his steps, to locate the system of caves he had originally found her in and see if he might not be able to catch her scent somewhere close by. Unfortunately, he had had no such luck, and had taken to moving through the northern lands as a whole in search of her. He knew the waters were close - the salty ocean air was familiar to him after the many visits he would often pay to the Delta in the east - but he stayed clear of them for now, assuming that they would be free of wolves for the most part. It seemed the whole area was rather quiet, or at least this section of it, and he was ready to abandon it in search of a more heavily populated one, somewhere he might at least stand a chance at asking around for her location. But before he could leave, he had caught a scent, one that was not unfamiliar but that set the skin beneath his fur prickling uneasily. Blood? And likely not just a little of it either. If it was this strong, it was either close...or someone was in danger. Fearing immediately the worst, he felt the black fur on the back of his neck rise warily as he trailed after the strong scent, letting it lead him along past the dunes into more stable ground. The den's opening greeted him first, coupled with the noises of the one inside as well as the strong scent of blood. He could barely distinguish an identifying scent over the smell, so overpowering as it was, that though he wrinkled his nose against it Rune still crept with slow, cautious steps closer until he could peer inside. The pitch colored wolf nearly blended in with the shadows of the den where he sat, only distinguishable because his coat rivaled even the darkness around him. Abandoned just beside him lay a pile of meat and bone - the juicy remnants of a meal Rune suspected, or at least until he noted what the other was moving about. The pelt was pulled from the mess of flesh and drawn to its own location, as if the wolf intended to spread it across the den's interior like moss on stone and use it as cushioned bedding. It was a twisted sight, one that even made Rune cringe a little, though it was nothing compared to the worry that sprang up within him as thoughts of his sister consumed him. He drew himself forward, ignoring the fact he was presently attempting to face off with a seemingly deranged murderer, and lowered his head over his neck, stance somewhat square as he eyed the dark male within. "Who was that?" he questioned intently, his quiet, forceful voice very different than the manic laughter exuded by the other. "Did she have green eyes? Was she traveling alone?" Rune waited tensely, frosty blue eyes shifting rapidly from the wolf to the dark pelt and back again, heart already racing as he dared the other to answer in the affirmative.

He had been admiring the pelt on his floor, the dark tones mixing, blending with the Rocky surface. That's when it had hit his nose, the scent of a wolf. He hoped it was a female, so he could have a reason to kill it. But he suspected that it was male. Although it was hard to tell over the delicious scent of the fresh, coppery blood.

A man stalked in. No instant reason to hate him. His blue eyes shining with anxiety. He wondered what he was so worked about. He questioned him about the dead female, well rug and bed now, he would answer. "I do not know who she was. And her eyes where a bright emerald, beautiful, but she was a bitch, she trespassed. She was traveling alone, yes. Why do you ask dear little wolf?" He giggled, and looked at him. His eyes shining with a maniacal pleasure.

(Speech)