Darkness was such a wonderful ally, how it hide the curves of a predator amongst the prey, the way it, stroked along the flesh, the way it slithered against the skin. The way darkness, in all of its forms, hides what was really in the hearts of lesser men. Though those that were wise knew that darkness was a defining precursor to deceit. Which is why the male took pleasure in traveling during the stranglehold of the night.

The man moved quietly, paw pads only lightly settling against the grass, his weight shifting deftly. Soft sounds of crushing foliage was the only thing that herald his passing, as well as the systematic breathing into the night, the way his lungs drew in the air and pushed it out, the predatory sound, the creeping of something malicious through the land, a blight that would not be stopped until nothing was left.

This blight moved though the trees, his fur brushing against the bark, leaving his scent for those who where foolish enough to attempt to tail the man. Something though made him pause; perhaps it was the tree that rose so defiantly over the desolate landscape.

His body stopped it?s motion, eyes slowly twitching sporadically over to the tree, ?int-erest-ing.? Baritones echo about the male, jerking himself into movement he presses the tip of his nose against the tree, before slowly trailing it up against the trunk. Finally when his nose couldn?t go any further, he eases himself off of the ground, front paws coming up and off the ground, claws slashing into the bark before raking downwards, providing the screaming of the tree as it?s bark is forcibly removed from it?s body.

Pleased he releases the tree from his assault, paws smashing against the earth as his weight returns to it. Jaws stiffly part, spreading as the saliva drips between the roof of his mouth and the bottom, tongue slithers out, dangling from between his jaws. Purposefully his left leg swings around, turning the tower of a wolf away from the tree to allow storm calling eyes to gaze out across the land.

Soft tissue of torn epithelium manifested the drawn ears of a colossal she-wolf, the muscles of the devoured beast the wolf was ravishing it's hunger upon; were shredded like the rest of it's being. One last tug was all it took for the sociopath to retreat from the corpse before her paws, she mauled the ground violently as her claws raked the earth surface. She stopped for a split second, taking in the looming darkness around her, her sharp unfathomable oculars that illuminated the moonlit night with it's demonic embrace seemed to vibrate pure vengeance off them. Feeling her inner demon start to scratch at the surface, becoming enticingly impatient by the minute. The femme also well known as, Sinister, found herself spinning 'round on her heels to bound forward into the night. Hurling over obstacles that blocked her path, yet she dared not stop -- the evil fae continued on through the thick forest and beyond with no exception of turning back.

Through stimulating eyes, behind a concrete wall, beneath a chilled heart lies a fae whose soul is lost and forgotten. She's rather cold and brutal, blunt and vulgar and as she is these four things that make her who she is, this she-wolf holds the deepest and darkest secrets -- resentment and betrayal. Deep down this ageless, soulless demon whom of which has sold her soul to the devil; has yet to realize that she's a afraid inside. Afraid of her own shadow-self. Though she does not put on her bad girl panties just to fit the role, she was naturally born to raise hell, especially from master-mind killers that she calls her "beloved" parents. No, not really so much beloved. Sinister and her father are not on good terms, they haven't been for centuries now. It is literally, unorthodox that these two parade their hell on this world, seeming as though it is game on between the two. Though, Sinister is like that one folk-lore, the boy who cried wolf. Well she's the wolf and when a someone cries 'wolf' then they better expect the claws and fangs to introduce themselves to their flesh. Trust me she is a nightmare misery to all who appose her. It's said that she's like a phantom, there one minute, gone the next. Just depends on how quick you are for she could sweep you off your feet without even a single flick of her wrist. Oh, the sneaky and destructive acts of serial killers. Oh, how they can be so; manipulative. While you walk around calling her acts, games, she is out planning to demolish an entire army, to wipe out half the world's saviors -- you believe that in your heart she doesn't think before reacting, but she indeed does. She does it so well to; so, very, well. please take the time to re-enact your thoughts, rewind back to the part where you said she was incapable of when she strikes. Take your time, she has all day and all night. For when you think less of her, she will always come back to bite you in the ass. Notice her as a vampire, when you cross a vampire, they come back to bite. And it's not too pretty afterwards for this female does not stop until she has you right where she wants you. Corned, scared, loosening your mind to the point where you start seeing things that aren't actually there. She attacks her next victims with ease, though they know it. She makes sure they know she's coming for them. First it starts with killing a few family members, then friends, then fellow acquiescence's, and then when she knows she has them broken and weak -- that's when she'll strike. Think of this as a killing game. When she puts you on her hit list, there's no taking your name off of it. For she will hunt you, she will find you, and she will kill you..

---

" No more, please!" Croaky and well hoarse voice slurred as blood drained from the brute's mouth. His ear bleeding cries of pain and despair made Sinister's blood start to pulse violently through her veins -- offering a more exclusive adrenaline rush that she was basking in. Certainly this had been her one hundredth kill of this year, so his suffering had to be special. Oh, how she was excited. Her parents may not be proud of what she's become, a blood-thirsty killer like them, but they are dead to her so they have no say on what she does with her life. Even if they were still alive, she wouldn't take part in listening to them anyhow. Shaking her head down as she gazed through the man's fear-some orbs with her demonic ones. Surely he was going to keep on screaming, so Sinister had to do something about that. Enclosing herself further between them, executing that gap that kept them apart. The blades of her canines glistened against the eerie caliber of vibrant rays of lit darkness. With no hesitations nor deceptions, the she-wolf opened her large maw only to hammer down her mighty jaws onto the males snout -- without a moments notice the femme yanked her crown viciously, taking his entire muzzle with her. He tried to yowl but couldn't, the only thing that he could bare to spill were watery tears. His face was now fully covered in blood and with no remorse or shamelessness Sinister decided to end him. Taking a deep breath to open her mouth open like a dragon, almost like she was going to harvest his soul, but instead she harshly barked in his face. Watching as his eyes drained to a pure white, no pupil left to decorate his eyes. Shutting her maw as the last bit of his glorious soul ravished her insides and once she drank down her own saliva with a mixture of metallic blood, she oozed: " How's that for child play?" Those last few words sounded as if they came from a venomous snake for they hissed and her rich, angelic, ancient Greek accent thundered. Listening to his silent moans of anguish, she harmonized her devious chuckles to his silent empathy . Huffing lightly, Sinister straightened up and took her sweet time getting from point A to point B. Heading off further into the night.

"Speech"
'thoughts'

Hatred.

The man stood there for a moment longer, his eyes narrowing into the darkness as they adjusted to the lack of light. Nothing. Imonde?s mind drew a blank as the stillness of the night enshrouded him in it?s fingers. It was eventually going to drive the man insane, more so than what he already was. So it was of no surprise when his front paws started to slowly slide along the exhausted earth, nails scraping along as he lowered his body down toward the ground, the front part of his chest dipping down as his haunches remained flagged in the air. Jaws slowly made their way apart as he yawned. Hunger, such hunger. When was the last time the male hunted? He could not recall.

?No more, please!? The words cut through the darkness and slammed into his ears like a shockwave. What was taking place under his nose this primitive night? How the creature did wish to find out, but the sounds of a desperate mans pleases wasn?t enough to make the man move from his lounged position. But the tearing of flesh was. Quickly he snaps his jaws closed with an audible click, his haunches pushing forward as he eases his body back into an upright position.

Wetness, it was a sound that he knew well. The sound of flesh being peeled away from the bone, the sound of the absence of mercy, the sound of prey being taken down. Keenly the man flicks his ears forward, head lowering to align with his spine before his neck stretched out. Nostrils flare, the tip of his nose going toward the night sky as he inhales deeply. Blood. The aroma of it was filtered through his nostrils where it took root in the expanse of his mind.

Blood. Lupine blood. A scent that called to him, a scent that he knew quiet well that awakened found memories of home. He couldn?t? help but to wait, his ears notched forward as he still awaited the sound of breaking cartilage, of someone dining. But to his anguish that sound never reached his ears, he would have to invite himself to this feast then, it was only polite to share.

Moving forward his legs did carry him, first at a leisurely wolf trot, then suddenly breaking off into tapered run. The scent of blood grew thicker as he approached the fallen wolf; finally storm eyes caught the object that he was seeking, the battered body of a wolf whose voice was silenced, except for the wet, slick sound of blood choked panting.

Imonde slowly approached the soon to be corpse, his nose pressed against the ground as he circled around the fallen wolf, intently sniffing as he picked up?her scent. Her. The male?s eyes flashed his ill intent, the psychosis brewing behind his gaze as his muscles did begin to tremble in unearthly excitement. Gradually the brute lifts his head, eyes slowly catching the sightless gaze of the man that rests upon the ground, his blood choked gurgle intensifying upon noticing he had the misfortune of meeting yet another that cared not of the value of a life.

?We think, you?ve bit-ten off more than you could chew?? Rattling baritones push leisurely from his body, his gaze glittering his amusement at this other creatures suffering. ?Tho-ugh, we do tha-nk you, how hun-gry we have been.? With that Imonde circles around his scavenged meal, lips peeling back as he teasingly nips at the other male?s stomach before lacerating it, razor fangs slicing into it.

Casually the man takes his time, canines slashing flesh away from bone, breaking through the ribs as he fends off the insanity with a bout of blood. Now what can we bring the vixen that left us this? Hm? His mind did echo, finally his gaze lands on the prey?s heart. Jaws parting once again he wraps them around the pump, just one simple tug rending it from the body of the fallen wolf.

She shall be delicious, we do recon. That thought makes him drop the heart, his head snapping upward toward the night sky as his blood induced hunting call claims the night as it?s own. The creature soon becomes irate, head lurching downwards as he gathers the heart between his jaws, nostrils setting him on a collision course with the female.

Legs pumped under him, paws setting against the ground as he flits off through the night, weaving through trees as he follows her trail. There. His mind does hiss, making him slow his pace as he watches her from afar. Dragging his body along though he does finally approach, the tank built male closing the distance before lurching to a hesitant stop somewhere along her right shoulder. ?We do thi-nk you have lo-st this.? He rumbles as he drops the heart from between his jaws. ?You sme-ll of dea-th, we thi-nk you smell?? His voice pauses for just a moment, his gives himself a moment as his tongue sweeps away the blood of the fallen male from around his teeth. ?de-lect-able.?

Wrath. It's that one simple five letter word that can drive the most sane person to their limits. Of course, ones who have that ultimate control over their emotions, that surely is not a problem for Sinister. I mean, for someone so demonic and hell bound then wouldn't you think the same? She is fire... She is death. She will not rest until everyone around her parishes, until the sky is filled with smaug and burning debris. The sight of fire bringing trees aflame and the holy earth below her paws crackles and pops with agony of desolation. She'd rather watch the flames plummet this very world with her back turned to those who ever opposed her.. Something roared inside of Sinister, promising blood and death. A raging thunder played on repeatedly in her head, almost like a war was prevailing in the dark depths of her mind. It could definitely been seen through her depthless oculars that shown the devil in them. As she was silently standing alone, her tail lashed out at her sides while her ears twitched with unease. In the distance she could hear someone approaching, a male if she were correct. The smell of him was thick in the air, sending his horrid metallic odder to her now flaring nostrils. The whites in her eyes shown more so than usual, sending her heart rate into a frenzy. Muscles knitting together and broad shoulders rounding by the second, and yet still she was as calm and care-free as she could put on. When the male neared closer, she knew he was coming up behind her in matter of seconds which only made her tilt that enormous crown of hers to one side. She met him with a brush of her masculine frame against his, instantly tensing her rippling muscles at his very touch. Sure, she wasn't surprised when the brute dropped her victims heart at her feet, for he did smell of the male she had murdered. But that wasn't what was on her mind at the time, what really was is the fact to why he was saying 'we'. Whose we? There is no one else around but him and I? Sinister thought to herself with a silent crucifix. The brute was talking in third person, which seemed a bit off to her for he was the only one standing beside her.. Or was this she-wolf that blind that she couldn't see another presense? No, it was just a fact that this male was mad, madder than Sinister and her caged demon combined. Taking in a deep breath, only to exhale with a harsh sigh and venomous words that oozed with maximum lust and pure rage. " Might I ask, why are you following me like a lost puppy dog and who is 'we'? You talking in riddles and it's making you look like a fool.." "Speech"

Touch.

She dared to touch him. This alone made the male sluggishly blink. Missing though was the irrational anger that usually followed when a lesser wolf tried to touch him. Something about her touching him didn?t set of the kill switch that often engaged inside of his intellect. Though, his ears began to push back against his head, pinning there as his gaze leisurely traverses the curves of her form as he leans his weight into her during the passing. The male does push into her, his side sliding along her as he stretches his neck out, running his gore covered muzzle against the fur along her flank. His tongue did slowly move across his fangs once more, nostrils deeply inhaling her aroma that brought the creature?s blood to a low simmer. This was just a prelude to demented foreplay, an acknowledgment of her touch, a sign that he would not attempt to butcher this one here tonight, in the silence of the darkness.

The tensing of her muscles did not go unnoticed by the blood induced male, and his reaction?the sweep of his tongue along stained lips, the vibration of his vocal cords in pleasure as he rumbles. His lips begin to slowly curl back, a smile making its way onto his lips as his jaws split to only snap together. Her words where ignored for a moment, his eyes instead began to devour her, from her flanks and then up and along her spine, only to finally come and rest upon her features.

Her rage that flowed from between her lips made him curl back his lips at her, emotions did not stir across his face until after she was done. The man was blank, his ears vacuuming up her words, his mind dissecting their meaning like his fangs did that corpse. The heavy coating of lust though did make him turn his head as his muscles shudder under his thick coat.

Still he remains silent for a moment longer, his leg leading as his paw pushes quietly against the ground as he turns himself about, his head drawing near her shoulder, his eyes dancing along the curve of her neck before he slowly shakes his head. ?We, in the tense of su-peri-or beings, as in to those we deem beneath us.? Decisively the answer to her second question finally comes, seeping from his lips.

?But.? His rattling whisper creeps from his lips and into the darkness. ?I see you, for what you really are, so I will address you as such.? The pattern of his speech smoothens a moment as he strings the sentence together effortlessly. Grey eyes suddenly flash, his haunches hovering just above the ground as his hind legs separate, hind claws digging into the soil as he regains his balance.

His throat vibrates once more, his right leg bringing his paw to hover as well just above the ground as he lowers his head to align with his top of his chest. ?Make no mistake, you have my attention, fonak.?

Dark vibrations start to ravish in her throat, directing them towards the male as she feels his weight start to surpass upon her own. At that move she flashed crimson tainted canines at him, ones that were as sharp as swords. Her claws began to peel out of her paws, draining into the earth surface below her, daggers that could be mistaken as spears. She was reaching the brink of insanity, wanting to taste his blood on her tongue and in-between her paws. Harsh growls that thundered like a storm brewing over head, she dared for him to try anything else and she'll have his head on a stake. Not one for being so close to another wolf like this, especially a male, Sinister had whirled around to where now she was face-to-face with him other than being side-by-side. Hammering her fore-paw into the ground, her mighty jaws snapped out violently at his snout -- aiming to draw blood from him. She was not going to allow someone to manipulate her, she was to smart to be seduced by some low-life wolf. Some rather brutal words were dripping like venom from her tongue, hissing dangerous with vengeance pulsing through her bloodstream. " You know nothing of me, so do not push me past my breaking point or you'll be prepping for your own funeral!" The demon within raked at the surface, wanting out. She almost let it consume her, yet she shoved it back down for the mean time until she was truly ready for him to come out and play cat and mouse. Her eyes illuminated a blood-shot red, feeling the insanity starting to overwhelm her. Her tailed twitched, muscles aching from the sudden temptation of blood-lust. She again spoke, but with such cruelty that coated her words, and the flourishing insomniac look of her eyes brought the sociopath out of her. " Bad move, boy. You see, you have mistaken, drawing my attention and trying to fondle me with such treason! You've crawled your way out of hell and now you playing by my rules.." "Speech"

Excitement.

There was something sinister, and predominantly erotic about bloodshed, perhaps it was the way it slowly made it?s way through a thick coat of fur? Maybe it was just the way the secret seemed to bait out the worst intentions an individual could have? It mattered not, the blood was coursing through his veins and was acting as a constant reminder that here within this same area with him was a female that would and could butcher others just as well if not better than he. She was something he would have to obtain for himself.

This thought alone was what made him move forward, almost as if he was slinking and had all the time in the world to get there. But the flash of fangs from the lady made him pause, the low hum of another bloodletting made him sweep his tongue across his fangs and position just at the junction of his lips. That was until her jaws came at his snout. His head suddenly dropped down and to the right, then sharply swung upward as her fangs slide across the left side of his snout.

Injury. Though the nerves along the wound cried in anguish, his features stilled for a moment as he drew himself up to his full height, his eyes slowly sliding to the corners of sockets as he regards her in a stirring silence. Gradually his lips pull away from canines, tongue sliding rapidly against them as the vibrations of his irate rumble racks his body.

Salvia slowly pours between the slight separation of his jaws, muscles tense and sent on end as he was defied. Of course she won?t just submit. His minds tugs at the chains of his own sanity as he squares off with the vixen. But still he stays his jaws from snapping toward her neck, not yet allowing himself to afflict harm. ?Nor do I care anything about your past,? the enraged testosterone induced male rumbles, his lips curled into a snarl as his body remains on the verge of stillness brought on by vengeance.

?Rules?? He echoes roughly, the word ending with a snarl as he pushes his weight forward taking another step toward the female as his tail curls upward behind him. Play? Pl-ah. That was one word the male knew quiet well, and was positively fond of. That one word alone brought his lips down back to cover his teeth, ears flicking away from his head and toward her as blazing eyes regard her in a sadistically curious manner. ?Pl-ah, what rules shall we pl-ah by?? He crones forebodingly.

Imonde's speech Lust. Pride. Envy. Wrath. As Sinister is all these four things, there is just one she is utterly brilliant at manipulating. Which, you've guessed it, wrath. She has that caliber of a brutal serial killer that is just waiting to be realized, it's clawing at the layers of flesh it's caged behind. The growls of anger and anticipation began to rumble inside the she-wolf's throat. Nothing so cold and lifeless like hers could ever be mustered by any, except herself. As the males voice rose in her ear drums, his tone ripping at the annoyance she had for him. ?Nor do I care anything about your past,? His voice was like nails on a chalk board, she wanted to simply reach out with her already bared fangs and tear his entire jugular out. Though, what would be best is to cut him up, tear out his heart and wear it as her own special amulet then hang him by his intestines from a tree. And the monster that played puppet with her strings wanted to sate it's hunger with his blood, feel the hot liquid scorch it's throat as it trickled down. And that will soon come, right after Sinister eats his words and throw them back at him. " Oh how lovely your going to taste, that thick coat of yours shall soon be drenched with your blood as I devour you from the inside-out." Circling him now, Sinister allowed a sinful grin start to parade across her angelic yet devious features. As she moved, her muscle alignments did the same, in reminiscence of her own melody. Chuckling evilly, having that insane laughter of a psychopath; whom she was of course. While circling the male continuously, she simply listened to his foretelling secrets, they poured out of him like a tidal wave. She could sense his self-preservation of humanity, they both had none left which made the two a deathly source of killers among each other. The male's words only made her crackling laughter start up again. ?Rules?? Having quite enough of these foolish games he was playing, Sinister found herself halting in front of him once more. Her colossal frame towered like a sky scraper, glaring deep into his soul as she watched the withered demon inside of him coiled up in a prison just likes hers. A smirk replaced her emotionless expression, only for the slightest moment, then returning back to it's usual reference. Her words seemed to slip through a barrier, like they almost never wanted to fall from her lips but they had anyways. And with such violence. " I could tell you to go hell, but it's empty. For all of them are here, around us.. Can't feel their presence boring deeper into your very being? I can, so, let's play a game. Let's see who can last the longest in a cauldron of despair. You wanna play by my rules, eh? Let's see if you can handle them first." She wasted no time in attacking, her moves were graceful and yet oh-so powerful. She aimed to bring him down with her own boulder-like weight, her massive frame going to crash into his so that she could claim the most righteous punishment by grasping hold of his throat and not dare to let go until she saw blood flash in her silver oculars. But that was even if she got a grasp on him first, all he had to do was dodge her attack -- though even if he did she'd come back with much more brutality. Walk,"Talk", Think

Pl-ah time.

The mere thought of playtime was enough to make his haunches quiver in anticipation. How long has it been since dear Imonde has had the chance to lay his teeth and weight into another being? Days? Weeks? Months? He couldn?t recall, his memory would flick between this victim and that, all of their faces blurred together in the fragmentation of his conscious. At first their names used to matter, he would stop and take a moment to ask them before he released them of their shells. But the sad aspect was after a period of time, even that made no difference. There was an intense pleasure to be had with the letting of blood, but the male was starting to realize as he aged that it was temporary. Each time he would have to consume more flesh, let more blood, and allow the skin of his humanity slide off his soul like an apple being peeled by an expert skinner.

Soon his thoughts where rudely interrupted it by the light female. Her words? He wondered if she was like Misha, another female that spoke words but cowered when invited to step outside and play. No. Imonde caught scent of this new girl at the scene of her extravagant crime. This alone solidified the notion that she would indeed come for his blood, and how exciting this thought was.

It was so exciting that his heart rapidly increased it?s pace inside of his chest. The male could almost feel his own atoms expanding, ready to transfuse blood across their membranes. His muscles where now a steady vibration under his coat, the fur rising along his spine, his tail remaining balanced behind him, his haunches lowering even more so toward the ground. The creature curled upward in anticipation, eyes narrowing as he yet again ignores her words, his eyes merely sliding along the base of her tail and the slope of her hips, the saliva pooling between jaws that were now easing open.

How delicious this would be. She continued to move, her words pushing against him, but his shoulders harkened his response as they round under him. His head draws back closer to his body, nose dipping against the peak of his chest, covering the tender portions of his throat. The fur that guards his neck scrunches, providing a protectively fleshly layer between him and incoming abuse.

Now she has his attention again, halting in front of him, denying his eyes the prize they where seeking. Pity. Then she expands, drawing upon her full height in front of him. What is she doing? His mind assess the situation, but more words make their way from her lips, this time she has his undivided attention, ignore the trembled of anticipation, ignore his hind claws grabbing purchase onto the ground under them, ignore the way he keeps his right paw just hovered above the ground, ignore it all.

The words she pooled screamed of anguish, did he care about the demons that circled about them? Nay. Did he care about why they all escaped? Nay. It did not matter, they where free, now the job was to cast them back from which they came. Lips gyrate around his canines, the unearthly rumble echoing from his throat.

Movement. She is instantly sailing toward him, her jaws parted, his throat the target. Foolish. Thoughts murmur as his eyes seethe the primitive rage that caged inside. Right front paw suddenly slams down into the ground, his hind paws forcibly shoving against the ground as his muscles grow taunt as he surges forward but to the right, allowing her jaws to snap shut on the left side of his neck just above the shoulder, even though it was protected by the layers of scruff and thick fur, the blood rises and stains his coat. Teeth sliding into his flesh, the nerves tearing at his skin, the man had to resist the urge to groan his pleasure. This is what it means to be alive of this he is sure.

But as soon as her jaws are latched upon his flesh, as soon as his nerves scream for rebuttal, his left forelimb slides inward, his left paw pushing against the ground as he attempts to rise a bit into the air. His right forelimb is then urged into action, swing upward as he attempts to place it on her shoulder and then shove downward. The creature?s head then tilts, so that the left side of his face is somewhere near her, and the right side is tilted upward toward the sky. In a surge of savagery the male separates his jaws, slashing downward in time with his right paw as he attempts to force her to the ground.

Salvia drips from the mans jaws, the snarl of retribution shaking from his stained body. Play time, what a pleasing thing.

the false king under the mountain must fall

That delightful, steamy, taste of blood started to trickle down her throat; sating her endless hunger. She had his metallic sensation soothing her thirst, though she unleashed the demon inside of her. The caged monster within was now manipulating Sinister's every move, and every word she will soon declare. She was now the host to her own demise, shoved back into the dark depths of her body and in waiting to be re-summoned when the beast had it's fun with this one. A flash of red was all she saw now, and everything went black. Nothing will be remembered, only the everlasting liquid that will taint her tongue and fangs.
Rippling muscles conjoined together, feeling the males weight start to press further down upon her own in attempt to pin her down. Yet, she wasn't one to go down so easily, and with her now pulsing adrenaline rush, pain and agony was a mere imagination to her at this point -- all pain that she will receive is pushed aside and replaced with determination. The true serial killer was crawling it's way out of her pores, now ravishing the male with more pressure on his neck. When the male imprinted his fore-paw on her shoulder, trying to tear him off her it seemed and bring her down, though Sinister wasn't having any of that. Locking her grasp, she reared up inside of tumbling back, leaving the two standing on their hind legs.
Feeling herself start to become increasingly irritated by this foolish foreplay, she decided to release her grip and step to the side quickly to avoid any attacks that would come. This male seemed to hold a lot of strength, much like herself, one to take punches like a pro and give them right back with a little more oomph. She liked that in a wolf, which confused her a little, but she was more focused on the battle between the two then the brute himself. Her own blood scorched saliva fled from the corners of her maw, bared canines that drizzled blood from their sharpened points. Her snout was soiled with damp, staining red coating, and the urge to lace her tongue over her maw was gnawing at her so she indeed did so. Letting her now crimson tinted tongue crusade over the top and bottom parts of her mouth then sliding back in between the gaps of her fangs.



"Speech"

For a crown is not fit

for a king unworthy of its power

Pain.

It ran hot along his nerves around the top of his left shoulder, along the base of his neck, her teeth doing a fine job at delivering pain as she promised. Why did he expect anything different. It actually was quiet a relief that the female would not be cowed by him. It continued the run down his neck, trailing through his coat and along his legs, the smell of fresh blood invading the night sky.

Domination, it was his goal as he feels her start to sink under his weight, there was a snarl somewhere to be had out of him, but his mind was too focused upon the spat. As soon as his paw gained purchase on the female he felt her jaws working upon the wound she already created, tearing and slashing, grinding and rending, the blood pooled from the wound rising against his grey fur, that thick hide trying to dam the blood but it continues to flow from him.

Ignored, ignored, and ignore he did the blood, but the tensing along the wound was a reminder that he would be feeling that females mark when the sun rose to reveal the carnage of this night.

Itching along his throat the snarl made it?s way from his body, his weight attempting to seize downward but to his annoyance she revolted, her body rising as she bucks against him, rising into the air to meet his fury. As quickly as she engaged, she flits away from him. A whine of annoyance screeches through the air as his paws slam back against the ground, jaws snapping with need as he turns his body toward her.

Leisurely, he leads with his left paw, the stiff shoulder rotating under his blood matted fur. Imonde didn?t even attempt to give chase after the female at the moment as she draws away from him. Imonde was simply too slow to catch her, instead when he fought he relied on brute strength, drawing his opponent in and keeping them close, using his mass to pin and maim. Which is why he just watches her for a moment longer.

But now the creature did draw closer to her again, his lips twitching back as closer. He stands, a few inches from her snout unless she draws away from him to put distance between them. ?You have marked me female,? he reverberates, his voice not betraying if he was pleased with this, or on the verge a psychotic out lash, though it was more the former than the latter.

'Kill him Sinister, make him witness what real pain feels like! .. DO IT!' The rising voices in her head raged on, continuously provoking her to launch herself at the male and execute the final blow. Yet, as this was very much tempting, the she-wolf knew when it was time to back down. She shall not strike again unless means necessary, and with that pitiful remark he threw at her she didn't expect any less of him. She had left her mark, and that's what she certainly intended to do. At this point Sinister dismissed her demon that took host over her being, recalling her own emotionless, sociopathic self to the surface. Breathing in heavily as she felt the senseless transition, her devil caged within the bounds of her bottomless pit. Shaking out her thick matted fur, silver eyes blinking a couple times to regain vision instead of the flushing of red she saw after every fight. Surely this male was lucky enough that she didn't just decapitate him, and why she didn't was beyond Sinister's right mind. Stalking towards him, she growled low, and made sure it rippled with venom dripping off her words as she spoke in slurs. " Indeed I have, and I'll do it again but something about you makes worth my while.." Again that insane grin of hers that could be fore-played by a psychotic killer, whom she was, of course. Her tongue draped over the daggers that were well known as fangs, cleansing his blood from them, though the tint was still felt; her tongue hexing into a crimson color. Sinister glued her eyes onto the male, tilting her crown to one side and more words soon pieced together only to be brought out firing through her blood-stained maw. " Since it would only be right if I knew the name of my victim.. What do you go by, brute." "Speech"

Insult.

That was the only way that Imonde could properly think about this wound that was twitching along the seam between his neck and his shoulder. Insult's where not something that the man took well, nor was it something that he would ever begin to, insults had to be paid in kind. How he would pay her back, but how, insult her by taking her body? No, she didn't seem like the sort of ditzy lady that would be crippled for the rest of her life from a terror such as pregnancy, instead he reckoned that it would only add fuel to the fire in this case. Maiming? Yet another thing that wouldn't be effective, his wheels continued to move about in his head, his thoughts where only a dark tangle about how to render punishment.

"I'll do it again..." That was all the male heard before his eyes flashed in psychotic fury, his lips danced along his features as he took a step forward, ears flattened into the thickness of his scruff. Jaws parted and then snapped together multiple times in warning, nay, if she touched him again without his invitation her blood would coat the ground, and nothing would be left of the harlot except an empty shell for when the dawn touched the twilight.

The female continued to speak, and his irritation continued to irrationally rise. "Victim." Another word that he would not be associated with. The man suddenly lurched forward, his jaws parting as his head sinks downwards, his fangs going toward the flesh along her muzzle as the rumble in his chest returns, irritation being his close companion at the moment. "Silence." He intones with the undercurrents of rage.

The holy inferno of that which was Imonde peels off and toward her right side, only circling as his shoulders roll under his mass, the pain a constant reminder that judgment would have to be rendered. "You may call me Imonde in private, within the company of lessers you shall address me as Sinclair."

"Speech"
'thoughts'

the false king under the mountain must fall

Inferno, an already lit flame danced in the coral depths of her cold binoculars. A chuckle fired through her throat, rumbling like a cannon ball soaring across the battlefield, it was like a silent hatred; lurking it's way towards her molten amber tainted maw. She released it finally, taking hold of her insanity that suddenly infiltrated out. She was surely going insane, it ought to be wrote on paper, and she was not at phased by this males arrogant growls that promised revenge. Though, if he wanted vengeance so badly, why hadn't he proclaimed it right here, right now. Maybe, that is a question that shall soon be answered.

For the sake of humanity, she simply allowed him to snap at her muzzle but she quickly swatted at his face in return. Never did she like when others were this close to her, they were in her personal bubble, and no one gets in her space without having been sent an invite. Sinister could taste it within her mouth, his metallic blood still drenching her throat, which made her swallow harshly. Embracing her inner demon once more, feeding it and herself with his blood, fueling that raging fiery pit in her stomach. Again, this males snarls of fury with a mixture of irritation coating the sounds he made.

Taking her time to respond with his retorted remark about not calling him by his name when lessers are present. Who the hell was he to tell me what I should and shouldn't call him?! At this idiotic response she snapped right back with much more power in her words. Hating when someone told her what she should do, he was not her maker and he will soon realize that Sinister is not a female with no back bone. She has one actually and will strike back without warning, and will successful execute her killing blow.

" Names Sinister, brute. Oh and one thing you should know about me, is that I do not take orders to well. So, I will call you Imonde wherever and whenever I want."

Lashing her tail, her body thundering with the masses of muscles she possessed. Her patience was drawing a thin line, and she was slowly starting to become hungry. All she wanted now was the thick, juicy, raw meat of a foreign animal; particularly an elk of some sort. She may not want any company, or dare ask someone to hunt with her but he looked like he needed some meat on his bones, so what fell from her venomous tongue was something far more sane. He may decline, and he may accept, but either one he choose; Sinister will exit the scene and continue her journey.

" You look like your hungry, brute, up for a hunt?"



"Speech"

For a crown is not fit

for a king unworthy of its power

Irritation was something that festered like an infected wound, goading one into making poor choices that they would probably regret later. But here the silver toned creature was, his lips drawing back once again upon his features as she retaliates against the call for silence and then directly disobeys. Imonde wasn't very sure what to think of this, should he be interested that this female would not bend like a branch in the wind? Or should he allow his irritation take over and make her bend? Choices, all seeming to stem from emotions that he had not learned to control, merely because he didn't have to. Might always makes the person in question right.

Then she speaks, this time offering her name, and then saying she will call him what she pleases. This was enough, the male slowly drags his nose in her direction, tilting his head upward as he breaths in the scent within the area around them. The festering mass of hate then stalks forward, his tail curling high above his back as he narrows his eyes down to fine slits toward her. "You will me Sinclair in the presence of les-sers, or you will find yourself playing host for my ire."

The dark warning made him shake, his body doing a leisurely shimmy as his coat fluffs out around him. Finally he drags his attention back toward the female, who's face now had a name attached to it. "Very well," he mutters before yawning, lips lowering back over his fangs before he turns and casually begins to follow her.


"Speech"
'thoughts'

Sinister flashed fangs at the male, disliking the way he spoke to her like he was king. No one is king, for a crown is never fit for a king unworthy of it's power, and Imonde certainly did not have that power. Dismissing her anger, she settled down just a tad before stalking forward. Her attention still drawn to the brute, keeping a close eye on him, quietly making sure he didn't try anything stupid and loose that tongue of his that seems to spit folk lures every second. Grunting lightly as she prowled forward in front of him, her ears alert for any source of sounds that could be heard for miles. Her crown was held high, cutting the breeze with her bared canines as she parted her jaws just enough to drawn in the trace of a deer. Slamming her mouth shut, she halted in mid center, her muscles grinding together at the sudden force she executed. Sinister's head rotated to the left, then not even giving the male a warning she bolted off in the direction she had smelt the animal. Swiftly she flew through the gaps of trees and low hanging branches, avoiding any large rocks or logs that would dare block her path. She was light on her paws, making little to no sound as she carried herself further into the forest; toward her target. ooc;; sorry so short doll, low muse. "Speech"