Blackfeather Woods stop and smell the roses

The Dragonblood was a born explorer, he loved adventures especially those that involved fighting. Because usually when he fought, it meant he could kill the opponent. Or injure them. Whatever, it involved teeth and claw and that was what Kelorth loved. The rush when in battle, the feeling of glory when you tasted blood in your jaws, the feeling that the other wolf was at your mercy and with one bite or swipe with his claws, the life would fade out of the other wolf's jaws. The ghost did not like torturing wolves for he felt it was not a fair fight and he wouldn't get to actually fight them. By fighting, he meant both wolves could move and attack one another. It wasn't a fight in his mind if only one wolf could attack the other while the other could only lie helpless, awaiting death's embrace, or injury's embrace.


Lost in his thoughts where his best battles were being replayed in his mind, Kelorth only awoke from his brain's grasp when he caught sight of blood red roses on the ground. And a dark beauty rolling on the roses. The sight of it nearly brought a chuckle to his maw but he restrained himself, instead allowed a small smile to curl at the corner of his lips. "Hey sweetheart, you don't need roses to look pretty."