Silver Creek the world-eater wakes

aw - any rosings crew especially welcome

iliksis languished under the mean glare of a weak winter sun, his pelt lent a soft array of mocha chocolate hues. perhaps with the sun slanted just so, it was the only time in iliksis' life he looked at rest and peaceful -- but that illusion was soon broken by the haughty sweep of his terribly sunken gaze.

his urges had not subsided from their primal warbeat - they still strummed along his taut gut and feral heart, clamoring to be spent: he ignored them. he was not a man fit for the role of dutiful companionship - being in such close proximity to the coven's roiling heart (and so many ripe bodies just begging for his appetite to find them) set his teeth on edge. there were many wolves here, (too many) and thus far iliksis had managed to avoid all but one.

eventually, his luck would run out.. but then again, he thought wryly, so would theirs.