Inky paws traipsed lightly through the spring shoots. The world was coming out of its long sleep; birds were singing, flowers were blooming, life held carefully over winter was being born. A slow grin exposed pearly, sharp, white canines as crimson eyes, windows to his soul - if he had one - locked upon a wobbly legged newborn fawn. It was such a frail little creature, and its mother circled nervously, large ears flicking in all directions as her large, soft eyes surveyed their surroundings suspiciously. The hybrid hunkered down, thick, flowing, fluffy black fur tangling in the fresh shoots below him. The urge to charge early, to rip into not just that new life but the one who had borne it, was strong, but he must be patient. There were better victims to sate the lust upon. This was a meal he was after. Finally, the mother, having nursed her newborn long enough, left it tucked carefully in the shade of the bushes, and slipped away, perhaps feeling that it was safe enough to leave and find a meal. Heh. The world was never safe when the wolfdog ran. He exploded into a charge, and the fawn, having not yet learned the need to run, stayed still, stretching its neck out over the ground as though hoping the dusting of spots would fool this black monster. The bleat of agony drew out into screams. Ahriman liked to take his time once the prey was downed. The fawn wasn't even nearly dead before the hybrid slashed his canines into its still tender hide. Fear made dinner so much tastier. "Save Yourself A Penny For The Ferryman; Save Yourself, And Let Them Suffer."

Be warned. This character is extremely violent, and needs little to no provocation to attack your character. He will be prone to taking slaves, so unless you wish to have your character possibly maimed or enslaved, do not thread with him and provoke him and do not complain when it happens because you ignored the warning written here in bright red and bold!

Spring brought a myriad of fledgling wildlife, stupid and weak. The season of plenty had caused her waist line to become more of something akin to a normal size, with her hip bones not so knobby from the lack of proper nutrition. The wilds were filled with the scent of plant growth and afterbirth alike, equal signs of new life flourishing all over Alacritia. Grass tickled her sides and face as she nosed through the long grasses and various other vegetation. She paused, lifting her head to take in a deep breath letting the new season air fill her lungs and soothe her soul. She could smell the many different grasses, flowers and roots that bloomed here. A good distance away deer mingled, fawns and mothers huddled together in a community feast. There was safety in numbers, they knew that. Lavender eyes scanned the surrounding slopes, catching something massive and dark in the tall grass. Her mind jumped to conclusions, telling her that was just a boulder or some other stone-y creation but her nerves told her that was not quite right. She was locked on, waiting with the patience of an owl watching a vole. The slightest of movement tipped her off, a canid of some sort was what she spied. A deep black in color, the behemoth blended flawlessly into the hard shadows of the day. A small sound drew her attention out, catching a doe sauntering off from a fawn that took to bedding down for cover. It had already been spotted, however, hunted before it even had a chance. She knew what came next. Her eyes flit back to the beast just it burst forward. Clean, fluid motions carried the interesting looking animal to where the defenseless fawn lay in wait. As it screamed out she couldn't help her natural instinct to pull her ears back, close her eyes, and look away. The moment passed quickly, death was a natural process. The screaming didn't end though. It only subsided for a moment before taking off again. She took a step forward, tense, then stopped sharply. Clearing her throat she rallied her muster, lowering her head to shoulder height before taking a bowed path closer. She moved slowly, carefully. His sheer mass made him stick out much more than she did. Coal grey base topped with black and brown markings created a shadowed effect, her star spread face catching like highlights in the sun. And her paws were tucked well into the undergrowth where they were not so stark. "I thought only babies played with their food?" Her tone was on the flatter side, stuck between humor and caution. Her lavender eyes caught the blood-lust in his, which were suitably a crimson coloration. She waited for him to respond or, perhaps, react. "Speech"

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The  wind shifted a bit, and through the blood of the screaming fawn, he caught a hint of a female, and his interest piqued. As she came into sight and made her statement, a slow smile pulled his face into a pleasant expression, eyes shifting to guile as he snapped his jaws shut around the base of the fawn's skull and gave his head a sharp twist to the side. The body of the fawn went limp, but it was still quite alive. A pity to have his game ended so early; the little thing would be unable to feel him eating it alive until the loss of blood and the overwhelming shock did it in. He dropped the limp creature and rose to his full height, thick, flowing mane only slightly soaked in blood, settling into place as he turned to fully face the smaller canine. The hybrid took his time eyeing her up, the burning crimson gaze eating her charcoal and tan form up and settling at last on her bright lavender eyes and star-studded face. Finally, he gave a slow grin, brow points lifting. His deep voice - nearly a highest range bass - rumbled from somewhere in his chest as he answered, in a slow, sensual, Romanian accented purr, "Who says a grown male can't have a little fun, these days, doll?" His salmon tongue flicked out to drag over his jowls, cleaning away most of the blood before he traipsed a step or two closer. The caution in her eyes sent a little thrill through his blood, and his narrow head shifted slightly to catch her scent. "What brings you into my presence, grey doll?" His crimson eyes roved over her form again, once more taking in each curve and dip. "Save Yourself A Penny For The Ferryman; Save Yourself, And Let Them Suffer."

Be warned. This character is extremely violent, and needs little to no provocation to attack your character. He will be prone to taking slaves, so unless you wish to have your character possibly maimed or enslaved, do not thread with him and provoke him and do not complain when it happens because you ignored the warning written here in bright red and bold!

Red eyes watched her approach filled with disturbing interest. Now close enough, she could see the blood soaked fawn. With its heartbeat racing, there was no end to the blood flow that seeped from its wound. It would try to flail, try to escape, but the attempts were fruitless. There was no escaping the powerhouse that held it down. He gave her an almost pleasant smile, like she might be fooled. She couldn't take her eyes off of him at this point and her lavender eyes roamed the foreign contours of his body as he leaned down to snap the small creatures spine. For a beast of his size a fawn was no more than a squirrel. A petty snack. Black jaws dropped the limp body, still oozing blood, as he stood up and faced her. Clearly his charade was over. She had already caught him before he could play her like violin and he seemed to know it. She was still trying to figure out exactly what he was. His features and fur were much unlike any she had ever encountered before. Pencil thin though the sheer bulk of him seemed to try and deny it. And his coat? Thick, straight and fluffy... it was not a wolf's coat. She stood solid, feeling his eyes molest her body from toe tip to nose. There had to be a good fifteen to twenty feet between them, a comfortable distance, but she knew he could fill it quickly if he tried. In a full on dash his strides would be larger, closing more ground faster. She could be done for and the saddest part was that was an all too common feeling for her. Oh, the loner cursed her small, useless size. He was grinning at her now and Costa could not even begin to think what thoughts might be swimming around in that ebony head of his. "Who says a grown male can't have a little fun, these days, doll?" To top his confusing physical features his words were not cut and dry but instead laced with an accent. To his words all she could think was, there are more fulfilling ways for a grown male to have fun, but that was the LAST thing she wanted to say out loud, lest he take the wrong way. She did not want to suggest anything to the night black stranger. He licked his lips, his tongue the happiest color on his being, she half expected to see a purple toned tongue. This was quickly followed by two greedy steps forwards, toward her. He was scenting the air, taking her in, "What brings you into my presence, grey doll?" Now she looked him over, hardening herself against his physical attempts to spook her. "Curiosity. You know the saying... its a good thing I am not a cat." She would not die today. She was resolute in that, at least. Costa cleared her throat, ticking her nose at him, "What are you? Wolf or otherwise... and please spare me any stupid answers." Her words were serious, sounding a bit worn out by the end. He came off as the type who would say, "the devil" or "your worst nightmare." Bitch please, just tell the damn truth. The need to put a paw on his strangeness was slowly eating at her, driven by her desire for knowledge. "Speech"

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