Blackfeather Woods even the darkness has arms

@Relmyna - backdated to before the war threads begin

 

The shroud of darkness that hung over the wild wood was almost comforting. It seemed as though Blackfeather was full of like-minded beasts, but Ithrik was not at all interested in their brood. The patchwork hound was more intrigued by what had drawn his nephew to the borders of their territory. There must have been something that called to the inner savage of Iliksis, and the devil was willing to endure their stay to find out what that was. After his own acceptance, the foul creature had already picked the scent of sweet children. Their aroma wafted through the air in a tantalizing and luring pattern. Surely, it would not take him long to find them and treat himself.

Plumes rose from wide nostrils as Ithrik slunk through the wild wood in search of life from within. The scent of his nephew lingered in the air, but he was not interested in seeking out the young wolf just yet; he would give it time before he found the brash boy. The devil was more interested in the other bodies who filled the ranks of the pack. He was certain that they would have talents of their own. More than this, he was enthralled with the prospect of young children being near. His pace slowed and he drew his skull upward to drink in the scent – it called to him.