Tanets so smert'yu. 《Dance with Death》

@Crëyr


The russian had not yet recieved a reply from any authority of the lands who were bordered before him. Yet he had patience. He could wait.
Vector had no intention of leaving. Here was safe land, a respite from the harshity of his birthlands, though the softness of the snow, the reassuring cold of the ice, the constant brisk of the wind...it made him feel as though he had a bit of a warm heart. Now, it seemed apparent to the flaring red decorated male that he may well be the one who's heart brings the cold winters of Russia with him, for his heart was jaded with the crystals of frozen emotions. As long as it never melted, he would be able to think properly, as he should. Focused on the task at hand, concluded the brute.

In his short time in the nearby forests that remained untainted by the scent of other lupines, Vector's mind brought to attention his feral grumbling of hunger that snarled from deep within him. How long had he not eaten? 2 days? This had not buffeted the man, for he had gone days without a morsel of food, many times in the cold terrain of home. This was nothing.

Yet, Vector had free time. Why not grab a meal, while he awaited company? No consequence could come of the action. As long as he had remained off of pack lands, he would not be damnable to any punishments.
Lifting his weight by his fours, Vector began searching out a trail for prey, and by prey, he meant anything. With this hunger that throbbed within him, his pickiness diminished, significantly.
He had noticed quite a few massive rabbit - related mammals. Hares. Fat and sweet, preparing their lives for the cold of the fall. The poor little things did not know they would not see another day of it.

Leap after leap, Vector used his uncanny precision to smash the rabbits, jumping upon them as through they were 'whack a moles', almost releasing a laugh at the little squeaks they made as they felt their insides crushed, and their bones pulverized.
But that would be a bit more of his russian heritage that wished to unfurl itself, his cruel upbringing attempting to free itself from its shackles. The sadistic glee that lusted at his core. The intensity rising with each little hare smashed.
He put an end to it after collecting 10 rabbits. The almost painfully numbing bliss began to leave him, etching a small abyss into him, feeding him lies that he was not who he was meant to be.
Ignoring the repetitive feelings, he gathered up his catch, and began eating, each savored more than the last. These hares were different from the Moscow ones. Very sweet, plump, soft..his homelands were tangy and gamey, their muscle built for excelling in hard situations. Almost like a treat, these were.

So Vector layed, stretching himself onto his pale stomach, limps spread accurately, and he enjoyed his meal on the edge of the forest.