Phoenix Maplewood bleed chaos

Day after day after day after day, the same old routine, different faces, different names, all the same, same, same. Calm was good. Calm was healthy. But calm was not a way of living that Snake had ever adapted to. He was doing so well, so much self-restraint. Pacing, pacing, anything to keep him occupied. Oh, but the monster could not be held at bay forever. Whispers, whispers, just behind him. Buzzing, buzzing, in his ears. Quiet encouragement. Stirring the beast. Egging him on. Nobody has to know, nobody has to know, nobody has to-

A scent. A warm body, coming closer, closer, closer. Snake's head snapped back down and tilted sideways at a near unnatural angle, blood and saliva trickling from his lips at the new rapid change in position. Green eyes focused, losing that odd glazed look and quickly locating the source of the scent: a woman. She was dark, her pelt blending into the blackness that surrounded them in its sweet embrace. She spoke a swift greeting, and one single ear atop the devil's head twitched briefly; subtly. It was the only sign to show he'd heard her.

The mere sight of the stranger had Snake taking a single, stumbling step forwards, his massive body lurching towards her. He'd not met another wolf in what seemed like days (he doesn't remember, doesn't care. His sense of time is no longer correct), and this would have been such fun. He longed to gouge out her eyes, strangle her with her own entrails, make her scream. Better yet? He wanted to pick her apart with his mere words, drive her mad, play with her mind. Oh, how he yearned. As such, that simple feat was no longer possible because he lacked one single thing: his biggest weapon.

Snake, however, would not waste his energy on harming her. He was exhausted, he was hungry, he was in pain, and neither of those were something the Chessmaster would have liked to be at this current time. Perhaps another time, if he disliked her enough, he could have his fun. A question, then, was directed the madman's way, and a slow grin crept across his muzzle, revealing ivory fangs stained crimson. Ah, such a sweet creature this girl was. Naive. Snake's jaws parted, wicked smile still in place, and showed off the dark depths of his mouth. In place of his tongue was a destroyed mass of flesh. Instead of words, a strangled, bloody, gurgle escaped his throat.

Once he decided the stranger had seen enough, his mouth snapped shut with an audible click (Snake did a damn good job hiding the wince that followed) and he furrowed his brows, grin falling from his muzzle. There was a questioning (albeit tired ) look in his eyes when he met her gaze next. She didn't seem intent on harming him, and that was enough to have the serpent comfortable enough to sit down. He'd been walking, standing all day, and it'd been who knows how long since he'd had food, so he sat back on his haunches with an audible huff from his nose.