Mature Content Warning

The mountain did not afford the hound all of the advantages that he would like. Some were born to live in the violent and rocky crags. He could dwell there, but when it came to a hunt... the fiend was at a severe disadvantage. It was not as easy to lure those he sought when the plummet to death was such a reasonable outcome. While he was chaotic and fiendish, Ithrik had a crippling fear that he would lose his own life.

Picking his way along the mountain, the devil saw a streak of ginger that caught his eye. It brought the recollection of a memory of a young girl. He still had her tail, and he wondered if she would mind if he took the rest of her. Prowling on dark limbs, the brute began to close the distance between them and felt that pricking fear once more; the Apostle spoke to him in his mind and he cringed. What if you should die? How will you wash your sins away? So, the devil paused and released a pleading chuff to the wolf ahead. As he did this, the brute feigned his rear ankle being injured and limped forward pathetically.

The mark turned her head toward him and Ithrik feels a cold satisfaction creeping through his gut. The gentle wave of her tail was enough for him to feel as though he was electrified. The devil whimpered softly and limped forward another step. The sharp glow of his tangerine gaze found her features to be moderately appealing. He wondered faintly what the taste of her tongue would be like. With a shudder, the vile creature motioned to his back leg with a swing of his muzzle and then fixed her once more with his gaze. “Please, little miss... my leg. I haven't eaten in days,” he pleaded with her in a smoky voice, deeper and more sultry in comparison to his typical ghastly tenor.

The girl was wary, but it was a rightful wariness, for she did not understand that she was facing the devil. And he faced her with such a chilling light on his features that he was not certain she would remain for very long. The girl asked him what was wrong and he parted his lips, lower jaw quivering in a melodramatic nature, coaxing the whimper from the back of his throat. “I've twisted my ankle, miss,” he mewled. “I am very hungry.” As if to accent this remark, the piebald creature pulled his stomach in to protrude his ribs; on his stilted limbs he looked razed. Then, with an exasperated sigh, the brute turned to peer at the mountain where he stood and his limbs quivered sadly. Flattening his ears to the top of his skull, Ithrik frowned.

“The mountain is such a dangerous place.” The thought of her tender flesh against his tongue was driving him wild, and in that sense, he had not been lying to her; he was starved. The taste of her would satisfy him for a short time, but he wondered just how long... how long could he feast on her and how long would she remain before she could scent the rancid aroma of decay that clung to his very form...

The woman pulled her gaze away from his face for only a moment to remark on how his ankle did not appear to be swollen, that he would be back to hunting soon and he should be fine. “Maybe you're right,” he breathed softly and nodded his head. His next move should have been to introduce himself to the girl – have a civil conversation – but Ithrik did not. Instead, he breathed deeply and lunged without warning. His jaws were gaped and aimed to sink into the side of her neck. His eyes flashed wildly, but he no longer favored the back ankle. The devil was in prime form, and he hungered for the taste of her flesh and bones against his teeth.

Success found him as his teeth sank into the skin of her shoulder. She reacted swiftly, swinging her head to snap at him with a determined effort to escape his grasp. This was, of course, not the first time he had attempted to kidnap one of adult size. They often proved tricky, but the devil was confident in his capacity for devastation. Withal, the reddish female was still able to bite and tear away at several pieces of his flesh, picking parts of him at random with each throw of her skull and snap of her canines. The piebald killer did not care that she might injure him; the thirst to overthrow her was stronger than the need to turn away from his kill unscathed. So, Ithrik did not budge while she nipped at him with her warning marks. He drove his weight against her in an effort to bring her to the earth.

The devil was successful in latching tight to the girl. She stumbles against his weight and falls to the ground, allowing him room to move over top of her. Still, she wriggles and attempts to pull away from him so that she might run, but he holds himself firmly and snaps his teeth in various portions of her body in hopes of slowing her movements some. Once she had been placed in a compromising position, he swung himself so that he could tower over her and position his lower half near the warmth of her rear. Ithrik shuddered violently against the feeling of her struggle and he drooled openly, hoping to be able to sate some of his desires with the use of her body. The devil attempted to wrap his limbs around her hips and latch his teeth to her nape to hold her still. The ginger-furred woman squirmed against him and he bucked his pelvis wildly at her, hoping only to strike against her frame. 

The brute had grown tired of his folly attempts. Ithrik had not managed to sink inside of her, but he burned with a rage so fierce that it seemed he would never meet his mark. The thrusting slowed and he growled to announce his displeasure. Using his teeth, he aimed to latch them to the back of her nape and swing her toward the stony ground. If he was lucky, he would crack her skull and spool her brains onto the snowy mountain. Once she'd been knocked clean of consciousness, the devil would be able to properly have his way with her body. If he could not stop her from wriggling and squirming against his touch, Ithrik would have no such luck.

With an excessive fury, Ithrik yanked as swiftly as he could and waited in hopes that she would fall to blackness. Once the darkness had a hold of her, it would offer him more time; he only needed to prevent her from escaping. A crow swung overhead with a hollow caw and then disappeared, leaving the two on the mountain with only the horrors within and the fever of rage without.

There was a quick jerk and then the sound of her skull cracking against the earth like an egg against the counter top. Then, she was limp in his grasp. The hound dropped her to the earth and watched as she slumped, uselessly, to the ground. Flicking his tongue across the dark hairs of his muzzle, he breathed heavily over her, unable to quell the desire to eat. The devil moved himself over her and gripped her in his teeth to jostle her some; he needed to be sure that she would not wake and struggle against him once more.

Her left eye protruded from her skull and bulged. The vile creature did not hesitate to lower his head and grip it between his teeth, yanking it free from the socket. Ithrik held it in his mouth for several long seconds before he swallowed it whole and looked to the next optic in her skull. She would be of much better use to him if she could not see. Using his front paw, he sought to dig it free of her head, but could not get his claws to grip it well enough. Snorting, he leaned forward and sunk his nose in it, using his incisors to pluck it loose. The piebald devil bit hard and felt it soften, but he was able to pull it from the hollow. He favored this one and rolled it along his tongue before biting down, savoring the rich, fatty flavor that filled the back of his throat.

After eating, he circled around her fallen frame and positioned himself at her rear. That she was sprawled on the ground made it difficult, but Ithrik positioned himself well and plunged into her with force and vigor, bucking until he spilled his seed. When he had finished, he made a place for himself beside her and washed his limbs with a gentle caressing tongue.

It took some time for the girl to stir from her mangled state. It was in those first moments of realization that he lived for. It was almost as though the fear spiked in them when they first realized what had happened to them. Those moments felt too palpable for him; too difficult to pass. It was not often that he was able to linger long enough to witness them. When he could, he tried to linger as long as was possible.

The girl fumbled around for a minute. He could see her empty sockets squeeze together; empty eyelids crinkling on her face. It might have been comical if he had been in a better mood. They still oozed with tissue and blood, but most of it had caked to her face. As if the thought of the petrified blood reminded him, he flicked his eyes to her rear and smiled at the sight of his seed and her blood congealed against her hocks. He had done well to her and he ruffled the length of his fur in a shake before speaking to her in a rasped and hollow voice. “You'll fall and die,” he warned her.

It was clear that she was distraught. He watched her, amused, as she shivered against the rough brush of his callous voice; how she swung her head wildly in an attempt to face her with two withered holes for eyes. She was pointed just to his right and he snickered at the lack of bearings that had fallen on her without her vision. Sad to most, the devil thought it nothing more than entertaining. He wondered just how well she would have been able to lure others in with her pathetic cries and shattered mentality. As if genius had struck him, the piebald hound rose to his feet and looked at her with an intent expression. It didn't matter that she was weighing her options, only that he had a very viable solution for her. Should she step from her line, he would be quick to lash against her with gnarled and rotten fangs.

Snorting, the devil inched closer to her and then lowered his skull some to avoid a reach from her teeth. Desperate women were always so fickle. “Try to run and I'll rape you until you're spilling cum from your ears,” he spat at her coldly. The fur along his neck and shoulder bristled possessively. As if to validate his claim, Ithrik swung himself round and jutted his muzzle forth to press his nose into her hocks. The fiend inhaled sharply and laughed. “It'll be hard for you to get anywhere without your eyes.”

Ithrik wondered if his nephew would enjoy her company as much as he had. Glancing toward where the younger wolf would be, he drew his tongue along his muzzle and released a plume of breath into the brisk winter air. Iliksis would not have been too far, he assumed. It would have been dark in a few short hours, and he was determined to find a place to hunker down with his new toy. Curling a lip to nip against the flesh of her hip, the hound glanced at where he should move next and made a mark. “You'll be a good girl and I won't stick you again,” he urged in a hiss. “But you act like a bad girl and I'll have to take something else.”

The cogs seemed to shift inside of her skull as she mulled over his words. The quivering of her frame still brought a great joy to him, so he held himself close, hoping that he could feel each shudder that she made. Her fearful yips would go ignored. While he basked in the wreck he had created, Ithrik was tiring of staying too long on the mountain. He needed to get the girl back to Iliksis and begin using her, but he was certain that she would not want to go with him willingly. The devil would need to be persuasive in order to have her follow him. That, or he would need to make her reliant on what he had that she did not – not anymore.

She stumbled and floundered in an attempt to move her frame and he watched her with an apathetic expression on his features. Try as she might, she was made handicap by her lack of vision. Ithrik felt that his argument to stay would only be heightened by this. She had been made no better than a prey animal. The piebald fiend knew that he was not the only one who favored the taste of wolf meat and that her disability would cost her a life in due time. Unless, she stayed with him. Imagining how pleased Iliksis would have been to have a young girl around, he moved to nudge her forward.

“You stay with me. I will see for you and keep you from death,” he lied in a raspy voice. Of course, he would not be so quick to defend her from imminent demise, but he was interested to see how well she could assist him in further victims. “But if you run, you are likely to die in a very short time.” There were her options; she could take whichever one she pleased. One was a promise of life and the other an assured death.

The girl offered him a pitiful whine that expressed her inability to move forward. He could feel her holding fast to the earth when he pressed himself against her. It hurt her to move, but it would hurt more if they stayed on the mountain overnight. Her limbs would ache by morning, to the point that she would hardly be able to stand. The devil needed her in a secluded place so that he could tend to her and make her presentable to others. He needed her to move.
 
Scoffing, the piebald fiend nudged her with his nose and then moved to stand at her front. His tail raised, and he brushed it against her face repeatedly to give her an idea what he wanted to do. “Take my tail. If I lose it, you’ll be in trouble,” he growled coldly. The hound planned to lead her himself. Ithrik was pleased that he could take such a beautiful creature and share it with his nephew. The brute only planned to wait for a few moments before he would walk away from her and show her the true fear of being alone without her sight.