Razorback Ridge SCP-087

Darkness cooled the earth and the surroundings of the storm cloud wolf. As the remnants of blue faded from the sky and shifted into an inky sea, the sound of crickets and cicadas could be heard humming zestfully from the foliage and tall grass. The threat of winter should have worried the lone wolf more than it did. It had been several years since he had last been alone for the length of it. None of the scents of the nearby packs seemed to draw him, however. Gittarackur was not so easily impressed by the likes of those wolves.
 
Movement turned the lantern glow of his gaze until it had landed on an amusing image. There stood another wolf with a bloody mess for a face and feathers protruding from their fur. It seemed they had experienced a successful hunt or were searching for something more to eat. Gittarackur searched the other’s figure for a few long moments, taking his time to search the points of the stranger that were most interesting, namely a dark splotch just above the eye.
 
Hideous bitch, he thought just moments before a sugary smile swept his dark lips and he fanned his tail behind him. “Well hello there,” Gittarackur called out in a singsong tone, weighted with subtext that could not easily be uncovered.