Phantom Hollow A Shadow's Mirror

Damn.
Perhaps he was geting dusty in his trade.

Slade pulled his form from the Void, his abyss of a form making its way to the smaller wolf. Cry had caught him in his game, hide and seek, and of course the younger spawn had expected such. His nephew, on he personally had a paw in raising to be the calculated killer he was to that day.

"Aye, you've slain my illusion, boy. What do you seek now?"

His silver tongue paused its song as he stalked to the front of his awaiting company. Those familiar emberous golds locked onto the frosty azures he had been trying since the boys unfortunate come-up, to melt, or at least shatter. To leave a single crack in the ire of those winter irises would give him a bit more peace than he deserved, to die with knowing he had broken the unbreakable newphew of his.

"I see you've found shelter," his song tipsied, dancing around the dark lupines in a soft embrace. "How long before they lay before you, Cry? I'd be generous if I gave it a week. "  The molten visage on his face intensified as he visualized a day where the youth would collapse packs, member after member, gullets shredded to nothing but a pool of flesh and gnarled bones, eviscerated corpses mangled and left to rot on an emptying battlefield.