Ankyra Sound V. That's the way the cornbread crumbles, that's the way the whole thing ends.
"Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future."
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Ooc — Malia
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He shakes his head at her, he can tell she’s probably in pain. If he wasn’t mistaken he seems like she’s already in labor. He doesn’t care about the rugged female whatsoever, doesn’t care about the spawns inside of her–hell he’s killed pups before. He has yet to kill any pregnant female. He wonders if he wants to keep it that way. The voice he hears within him is the voice of his father, long dead and gone, telling him that if he refused to kill something, no matter what it was, he was to be considered weak. As have the previous leaders of The Saints have taught. Even though he’s seen the elders of his now disbanded pack slaughter anything that could walk, women bearing up were no different, he’s not sure if he’s ready to pop that cherry just yet. The thought of him hesitating makes him want to bash his skull on the cave walls until he bleeds. It pisses him off to no end. He isn’t weak, but he thinks he’ll pass on this one.

He gazes to her brows furrowed and mouth set in a stern line, almost curving into a frown. “I fucking don’t.” He spits back to her. 

Why do you care? Those words sending him back to the memory of that dog, Sasha. When she too had been pregnant except with his pups. His same reply was, I fucking don’t. That was the last he’d seen of her before she blew the whistle on his pack, leading the humans back to them, leading his pack to slaughter.

So then he stands there, shaking off the memory, he hums thoughtfully. “Fine then.” He says like a pouty little child. “As you wish.” He growls back, seemingly snapping back into reality, reliving the past.

The difference in behavior so stark in contrast that anyone would be confused as to what happened. Turning his back to the female he pads to the wall of the cave a few meters away and slumps his body down beside it. Hind legs kicked out to the side as he leans on his elbows with a shoulder against the wall. He’ll stay here for the night, he doesn’t care what the female says. After all, of his. One doesn’t betray him, it’s beginning to rain.
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RE: V. That's the way the cornbread crumbles, that's the way the whole thing ends. - by Kynareth Deagon - May 13, 2020, 06:33 PM