Honeyed Pasture villain

Drakonis might have been disappointed with the recieved answer, but that was exactly what the reaper desired - to leave others unsatisfied, wanting more, but hesitating to ask. Often they didn't quite understand truly what their words meant, nor what they wanted; Aries would not gift them anything. Why should he?

Despite it all, the agouti dipped in acceptance, only to further pry into matters that were not of his own business - what was it with these wolves, sticking their noses into the deadliest of secrets? They always fled when overpowered with the dread that followed from knowledge, the curse that would haunt them like a shadow. Sometimes things were better left swept away in the dust.

He'd have left then, or made a move to end this miserable whelp's suffering, but in the voice, the Svartell witnessed the snatches of an opportunity, waiting, tempting. The world appeared adamant to present him with new toys, perhaps in apology of Siobhan's disappearance."What would you like it to be?" Came the slithering whisper, tone dropping further into the darkest depths of a cavern, the bottom of the ocean, the cracks of lighting in a violent thunderstorm - he moved closer, waiting to see if fear might creep into the eyes that distantly mirrored his own.