Moonsong Glacier no more than I deserve

The ghost had found her in a state of disrepair. The damage that had been inflicted on her neck and chest had mortified the brute to the point of manic rage. While Kierkegaard was very little good at comfort, he had done his best to tend to Nathimmel and had spoken to her… more than he had spoken to any other soul in a vast expanse of time. He had promised that she would never suffer such violence again. He had ensured it.
 
The pallid creature had done his jobs as a mercenary for countless others. He had completed tasks that most would have turned from – horrid things. When the inky halfling had found him, and he had witnessed the damage that had happened to her body, he had reverted to his old ways instantaneously. The scent of the attacker had still lingered on her dark pelt. Kierkegaard had swallowed that scent and imprinted it so that it thrummed against him with every beat of his heart. He had breathed nothing but the vile stench until the trail had become more than a distant hope. The savage could not simply believe that his trekking had amounted to anything more than a hopeless attempt to fill the chasm inside of him, but when his smoldering vision latched onto a greyscale form with tufts of chocolate about his throat… he nearly wept.
 
Hackles began to rise along his neck and spine, forcing his already jagged coat to appear unkempt and wild. The blistering burn of his orange-gold gaze had suddenly come alive. The ghost’s lengthy limbs seemed to quiver with the fire that burned in his gut, but he darted forward nonetheless. Kierkegaard was already abysmal with words, but he did not feel as though an explanation was necessary for the action he was taking.
 
A guttural noise sounded from inside of his throat as the pallid brute lunged toward the male; his intention was to maim this creature beyond repair. Parting jaws were aimed for the ribs of the russet-eyed bastard. The savage glint in his gaze suggested that he would show no mercy. All that he could see was the red of his anger; this wolf would pay for what he had done to Nathimmel.