Altar of Twilight victory does not make us conquerors

please pardon the wait... and my my identity crises xP

Duskhall remained silent in the wings, still and impassive like the black loom of a reaper as he watched the slim creature eat. He blinked every so often, shifting mutely as he caught distant sounds lost to the patter of a hard drizzle, but his eyes never left her— and he could tell that she remained very aware of him despite lording over her claim. She wasn't long at the kill, perhaps just sating her thirst, and she'd hardly turned her heel before the wraith was stealing forward to take her place.

She had opened up the tenderest parts, but had thankfully not demolished them. Duskhall tended quickly to her sloppy seconds. He knew better than to gorge himself, but ate with the ravenous scarfing of someone tardy; posed in a stance that reeked of his anxiety for being caught unaware. Several pounds of flesh later, he licked his chops in satisfaction and retreated from the corpse still warm in places deep.

He turned his long muzzle to and fro, wrinkling his lips and twitching bloodied whiskers as he tried to pick out a trail over the scent of blood. He sniffed at the ground, nosing at a spot where the shadow-creature had been, and then he looked up, meeting the glint of dark eyes as he spotted the wolf in her queenly perch. Feeling full and social, he made his quiet and steady ascent.