Duck Lake Story; one.

He was gray, just like him. Gray, just like all the others were. Was this another one of his bastards? Definitely not from her, she only had a few, and a few there were left to slaughter. He could only laugh, laugh at what has been spread, and so has been chosen for the end. Surely a sign, that he was to remove the stains.

Surely so.

A snarl, a cackle, oh the bitterness. He prowled to the sorrowed pup, caring not of what moment he may have. Maybe he was thinking of him, and the dearest one who was now perished, and sent to hill. Alongside them all, and this one? Would join him so.

A dart forward, a thirst for blood, and a claw toward the child.