Cedar Sweep I Want Your Bite

I got a little too excited.

They struggled.

I told them not to struggle.

They got scared and fought back.

I told them to relax.

Somewhere slumped a poor lost soul, one who didn't follow his instructions to remain still and well... teeth found and bit into the jugular, a death blow... and one where he would not stop lapping up that crimson gold. Scarlet wine stained the man's porcelain cheeks, neck, and chest as he sat in the shadowy woods -  unaware that his sins had caught the nose of another who was quickly approaching to check out the scent. By now in this weather, the body would be getting cold, meanwhile, his ghastly form felt alive.

It's too bad, I liked them.

Little snowflakes danced around in the dimly light woods, swirling in a mid-air parade until finding their resting place among the others on the ground. Despite how easily he blended in with this scenery, the ghoulish man didn't look forward to more snow. Well, at least with snow it was mildly warmer than the bitter cold days of winter that lacked the powdery stuff.

He sat, tongue slowly, methodically cleaning whatever he could reach. Carefully preening the fur along his limbs and awkwardly every now and then trying to do the same on his chest - water, eventually, he would need to brave the chilling cold waters and bathe to get rid of the crimson before it stained a hideous yellow. Pointed ears caught the sound of approaching crunching snow, carefully keeping their position trained on whoever was lurking... maybe they would wander away, or maybe they would be next.

Desert was always nice.