[justify]Sundown; the homicidal bitch had awoken just when it was her prime time of day, or, better said, night. Stretching, yawning, she eventually glanced down at her paws, all four a foot deep in crimson, with bodily matter of other sources clinging to the sticky fur. In fact, most of the femme’s pelt was not the least bit clean; mangled fur, blood stains and decaying flesh and gut pieces caking her thick fur. The once juvenile, puppyish and lively appearance had been swept away in the past weeks, nay months, the process of transformation to a nigh in-canine creature spitting out an eventual ghastly form, the cyan eyes sunken deep, allowing her to look as if she hadn’t slept in years. Though she was always on the thinner side, she now was, though not skinny, more lean in fact, bony. Her posture not holding the least bit of pride, her dial held lower as if too lazy to pick it up higher than her shoulders. And this somewhat unimposing creature was the Dire queen, a position she would have long abandoned had Dire even still existed. She still called the Direan territory her own and never went out of her way to slaughter any passerby; in fact, she had pretty much killed off any living being she came in contact with, not wanting to bother with social affairs. Anything extroverted about her, any small amount of kindness had been flushed away, leaving the physical form of something evil, insane, homicidal. Zero empathy now withheld in her skull and though she had favored a few canines in the past, such as Zy’riah and Pain, those relations were over; she felt no need for not killing either of them and actually wanted to rip through their guts and redecorate Dire territory with a new coat of blood.

A familiar scent lifted her attention; Reix, more precisely, Toshi, a canine she had rarely mingled with, as she never saw it fit to go through all the trouble in finding any of the other pack leaders. But her intentions were anything but political as she was making out what vibrancy his body fluids would bring to the dark shafts of the mine, the stench the decaying pieces of corpse would leave, a warning sign to any trespasser. Effortlessly she rose from the dead ground like a zombie walking out of its grave, ungraceful and almost clumsy, her appearance seeming somewhat skeletal against the dim moon. She followed the shepherd into the depths of the mine and watched as he sunk into his thoughts; it seemed any life form left in the city was an animal of solitude. With high speed and agility she warped towards him and brushed his fur as she was next to him within split-seconds, whispering into his ear with reeking breath, the stench of decay and decomposition strong. “Hey, Toshi. Guess who’s come to join the party?”[/justify]

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puppet; wraith
muse; fine
words; 487
comments; hey hey :)

[justify]The hellion spun around as soon as she winded the presence of the female, her light reflected from her cyanic orbs piercing through the darkness like sniper bullets, similarly hitting their acquired target. Oh, right; Wraith had nearly forgotten that Tanto was under new management, vaguely remembering when Tyrone had ruled; though she had never met the brute on good terms, rarely came in contact with him at all, actually, she had only heard how good an alpha he was; though it seems time had crumbled what he once built and left the unfortunate soul, Rosalie, as its victim, abandoning her of most of the pack. It didn’t take an idiot to notice the unnatural lack of life in Phereio; had it been a famine, a number of homicidal maniacs like her, or anything alike, the disappearance would never have been so drastic and sudden, but would have been a growing process. The husky hybrid sensed that the species of Homo sapiens had interfered with the nigh utopia canines had recreated within the boundaries of Phereio.

Her jaws parted, revealing a morbid smile, her ivories jagged from overuse; it seemed teeth could not always crunch through bone unharmed. She glanced at Rosalie with a concoction of insanity, sadism and anything else with a connection to what was bad, as if she was about to spring at the bitch, intent on shredding her to pieces. But, as demented as one gets, that was not the case and instead of lurching at the Tanto female full throttle, she smoothened her expression to a less harsher tone, her firstly devious grin misshapen to a cocky, yet harmless smile. It was a rare occasion after all that three of the four met, specifically not on hostile matters. To answer the girl’s question, Wraith opened her kisser and began to reply. “Greetings, Rosalie. Oh, I don’t know, Just pass-” She was suddenly interrupted as a form of white, or at least what she made out as white in the dark, that had approached, immediately a snarky remark in his vocals. Wraith cracked a thin, twisted smile as she recognized the perpetrator. “Cadillac. I was wondering when you bastard would finally show yourself…I’ve been ever so pleased with the absence of a variety of Dire members, including yourself; I would hate for things to go back the way they were, so I guess I’ll get to you later…” Smiling sweetly, she turned her head from facing the male back to look at Rosalie. “As I was saying, I was merely passing through; you know, wandering…there’s not much else you can do nowadays and toys, prey, victims just don’t come walking in the front door anymore either.”

Wraith brushed passed Rosalie and circled around, so that her path now led around Toshi and the Tanto female, eying both of them with wariness; though the other two seemed to hold the conversation at peace for now, the bitch would eventually make quick work of that and their meeting would break out into chaos, just like everything else in the city. Her ears pricked as she hearkened what the Reix king had said. “Family’s as well as one can be six foot deep; same goes for the pack.” Her cold stare immediately shot at the male, letting him know that the former bunch’s end had happened thanks to her; the pack, on the other hand, was mainly killed by whatever had made everything else vanish and out of boredom, hunger, and alike, the Dire captain eliminated the little amount of stragglers best she could, though she was certain few had been lurking here and there. The bitch was never fond of pack life, and she could care less if the pack had survived or not; for all she cared, they could be rotting in hell, quite the fate she so dearly wished upon Cadillac.
[/justify]

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puppet; wraith
muse; fine
words; 645
comments; there, finished.