treat Catherine better than the world has treated you

@sitri: & @tyrande nightshade:

He had thought long of the disservice that the black male had done to his fetish; though he had tossed it into the river, the man had not rinsed his mouth before taking the deer to his wolves, presumably. The curse would run rampant through the pack regardless. Much of his contemplation had been during a dozen small hunts, mostly for rats and mice, though the occasional rabbit had found its way into the pile of carcasses.

Though any other wolf would find this wasteful, Lecter had set himself to dissecting the bodies, removing the entrails and heads and setting them aside in a pile of leaves. Into the cavities went a mixture of juniper berries, new grass, and wildflowers; innocuous to the educated, though against the backdrop of gore, it would seem frightening to any who did not recognize the herbs.

The entrails he also kept, and presently Lecter licked gouts of blood from his jaws and regarded his work with pride. Two dozen bodies lay before him, along with a pile of viscera and heads, and three large rats the shaman had kept whole for his purposes. He lifted his muzzle to call for Tyrande and Sitri, eyes glimmering in the darkness; dawn had not yet kissed the earth.

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Sitri lay sleeping when a howl roused him from his sleep. It was the demon king's call and he stood to answer it promptly. He traveled swiftly on large paws through the early morning shadows and he made it without so much as a pant. He looked at the bodies laid out and then back at the king and then spoke "You called Sitri? Then he waited he sniffed a bit at the carcasses wondering what they were doing and why there was stuff packed in them, but other than that he stood silently adn waited.

Tyrande grumbled and awakened from what she felt was a well-deserved rest. Quickly and silently, she shook herself awake, and with an impressive burst of speed, headed towards Lecter's howl.

She slowed down agilely when the two wolves, Lecter and Sitri, came into view. Energized and awake, she looked between the two of them.

"What's happening?"

The muscular brute, Sitri, arrived first, and Tyrande secondly. Giving a nod to the both of them, Lecter licked cooling blood from his jaws. I have prepared these fetishes to take down and...give to the wolves of Blacktail Deer Plateau. I gave one of them a fetish and he threw it into the river. Foolish man, Lecter muttered, clucking his tongue in a mocking fashion.

Therefore, I propose that the three of us decorate the flatlands as close to their borders as possible with these beautiful things. And blood, he laughed darkly, alluding to the possibility that these 'gifts' were not at all innocuous.

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Sitri listened asked one question "Blood is theirs we attack if they come near? he then looked down at the copse of bloody mess below him and without even so much as a grimace he bent down to pick one up making sure to carry it so that the innards did not come out of the head.

He held it tight in his jaws looking and waiting for the answer to his question. He took a big breath and sniffed finding the starting point of the borders of the plateau. His red eyes glittered with a feral light, he was ready to do this deed. He had not been in a fight for some time he itched for it, perhaps he would have a chance to stretch his muscles today.

Tyrande looked about, and in contrast to Sitri's reaction, she shrank away from the bloody critter massacre. She looked uncertain.

"Why would we want to do that? Won't the bodies spread a disease or something?"

Yes, Lecter purled pleasantly to Sitri, and to Tyrande, he proffered a flat no. These animals are fresh, and stuffed with herbs. I removed their entrails. They shall be a sweet smell in the nostrils of the Plateau wolves. They are harmless. Rousing himself, the shaman gathered as many small bodies into his maw as possible and began his trek down from the Mount, expecting that the two would follow with the remainder of the fetishes and the bodies that Lecter had left whole.

With single-minded intent, the madman headed for the flatlands, into the small dip where he had first encountered the blackfur. Setting down his burden, he surveyed the distant border of the rival pack, and then cast a glance behind himself to appraise where Sitri and Tyrande were.

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Sitri dipped his head in respect and reverence to the other male and then as Lecter walked away he bent his head and picked up what he could carry flinging a few of the bodies over his shoulders and back. He had often carried burdens this way when slaving for the queen including dead wolves.

He followed the other at a brisk pace, the bodies not even bothering him as he was indeed a brute. He followed Lecter and looked around at the flatlands and was measuring in his mind where to put the blood corpses and fetishes.

aaeeeiiii. Sorry, I didn't see Sitri had posted!

Tyrande sniffed the corpse tentatively, marking no ill-smelling plants. She picked up a few in her mouth, and mirrored Sitri's movements, though with quite a few less than the brute before her. She perked up her ears, muffling words in between the fur. "So... It's like a prank on a different pack?" Her concerned frown turned up towards a mischievous grin as she began to follow the two.

Turning back from his survey, Lecter lifted the first body into his mouth and flung it into the flatlands between themselves and the borders of Blacktail Deer Plateau. He and his party were far enough away to run for the safety of the Mountain, should any of the neighboring wolves emerge from the forest, but mirth shook him.

He scattered the bodies a long length of the flatlands, tossing them as closely as he dared.

Presently, he paused, tongue lolling, to rip into the whole body of a muskrat he had brought, and breaking into a rare run, Lecter drew a wide swath of blood across the grasses, tearing its flesh as he raced, entrails falling in his wake.

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Sitri being bigger and faster than most got as close to the borders as he could. Actually lingering at the borders he ripped open one of the bodies and like Lecter he drug it from one side and to another. Finding a tree that had a branch he could reach he stood on back legs and hung the carcass from the branch snagging it's entrails on it so that it dripped and poured blood and guts out of it. He favored the mess with a rare smile that transformed his face, making his eyes light up, but there was no one around to see and with one last chuff he finished with the rest and ran back to his pack mates.

alright, I feel Tyrande won't be enjoying this as much as the guys... TIME FOR A PLOT TWIST

What is this?

Upon beginning to fling the vermin left and right, Tyrande felt and old twinge in her gut. She knew this feeling... What was it? She felt like she should know where this feeling came from .

Then she knew.

It was lust.

Bloodlust.

A dark, twisted side of Tyrande began to seep out. The side that secretly enjoyed the idle threats of Lecter about his god, Sos. The silent, senile part of her that really branded her name of Nightshade. The dark form of the gentle wolf that was thrilled when Silvertip focused on the more savage traditions. The form that relished in the cruel joke that was being carried out.

It was her alter-ego.

Tyrande's eyes seemed to glow with an almost cruel insanity. She chuckled, a dark, threatening chuckle as she eagerly followed the males' examples. The once gentle thing had transformed. Her dark form was terrifying and her eyes glowed with an ancient monstrosity. Had a wolf not known better, Tyrande, who was now bristling with newfound dark energy, looked almost like a spawn of Sos himself.

The shadewolf's chuckles grew to evil guffaws as she ran fast to splatter more blood across the ground.

Tagging @Peregrine: now <3

He was pleased to see that his minions took pleasure in this exercise, and danced in place, cackling lowly with delight. The ground soon ran red with blood and, strewn with bodies, would give any unheeding wolf a fright. Waiting until the others were close by, the shaman gave a long howl, retreating as its echoes rose in the air, and gesturing for the others to do the same. They were not here to fight, but it might be well that the Plateau wolves would try such a thing.

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Sitri's long legs ate up the ground as he ran to the shaman. He smiled at the carnage they had made. The blood that dripped from his muzzle and stained his fur, he didn't even bother to lick it off. Even the dark poisoner was enjoying herself. Tyrande he saw a side to her he was unsure about. Mostly he just made sure to remind himself to never anger her. Dn't anger don't anger. the voices screamed in his head.

closing this up <3

They ran and laughed, drenched in blood as they were, but eventually Lecter motioned them home and trio returned to Silvertip, to scorn their enemies and boast of what they had done.