Heron Lake Plateau [m] Got death on his breath, halitosis

All good! Small PP (lmao) of results, because fuck Ruin

One stumble on loose rocks was all it took for Ruin to find one of his toes clamped between powerful jaws, his own lips pulled back as he snapped at the anything—face, eyes, nose, ears—anything to get the fucker to let go!

The shadow found he would not and no matter the strength he mustered to wrench himself free, the man clung on, biting down with more force. Ruin’s fangs had found no purchase and thus did not deter his assailant. His body whipped back and forth and his normally deep and husky voice pitched higher in an agonizing screech.

Another clench from the man’s jaw and Ruin became blinded with pain as his toe was ripped from its base, blood spurting in all directions as it was whisked away.

He howled with rage, finally seeing again, but all he saw was blood red. Rage. He vibrated with it. Through the pain, he lifted the injured foot to his lips and smeared his own blood along his upper and bottom jaws as if it were lipstick. War paint.

One moment he was a victim, the next he became a lunatic and launched, bloody jaws wide open to find purchase anywhere it landed.