Ravensblood Forest Trees of Crimson

Glowing, golden orbs watch her features twist and react. All the different thought she has shifting around in her mind display through her shining eyes. They are the windows to the soul after all.

Then she steps closer after displaying her disgust with a face that he deems worthy for humans. He smiles at her interest, not horribly malicious, yet still mysterious in his intent. His smile remains as he watches her really take in his features. She truly seems intrigued. As she parrots the word Akita back, it makes him chuckle, the slightest hint of laughter bubbling up from his throat and past his lips.

“It is, huh?” He asks with a cock of his brow and a casual smirk.

Then as she asks of his pack his demeanor changes enough for her to notice. His smiles dies horribly and his face becomes full of faux disinterest. “Yes, my pack. I took reign of the pack from my wolven father. My mother, who had lived with humans her whole life, helped him lead after her escape.” He watches her face shamelessly as all kind of emotions swirl in his own eyes. “Anyway, long story short. I took the pack from my father. It was called Saints of The Dying Light. I led it for about two and a half years, until about two weeks ago when they all got slaughtered by the two legs.“ He concludes his story emotionlessly, or so he tries. “We got the whistle blown on us and a dog led the two legs to our location. They killed them. That’s about it. Now I’m a leader without followers.” He gazes to her, peering straight into her eyes, he squints his own. “And what the fuck kind of leader is he without a pack?” He spits back. The anguish within him not so directed at her, but more at himself.