Lust for the Crimson, Crave for the Ruby

He was only wandering, admiring the dark woods. This is his place now. Where his uncle had raised him was much... brighter. It was a weak place. Somewhere Bragi would live. That pathetic wolf, he thought he could cure Grim. But the fool was wrong. Grim wonders how the oaf believed he could crush the darkness. There was never any hope. None, the voices agree. Dark, they say. He doesn't remember much of his birth home. It was probably weak too. He can only recall the sound of water, the dark brown of his mother's coat. Were his parents evil? Perhaps not his mother. His father then? He doesn't know. That would have to be where the evil came from. A grin touches his muzzle. He may enjoy meeting his father. Too bad Grim will probably never meet him. If he did, he would kill him.

A voice interrupts his thoughts. He turns. A black wolf is there. What did this one want? He snarls internally. On the outside he manages a small smile. In his minds eye a scene plays. He rips into the stranger, angry for the wolf speaking with him. Using claws, he tears apart the male's face. Teeth gorge out his eyes. He then slices open the black wolf's belly, dragging out his innards. The images fade. "Hello," he draws out slowly. What exactly had this wolf said? He doesn't care. The question is why. Why is the wolf here? His nose twitches, he sniffs. This male has pack scent. So that is the reason. Another potential victim. Though all creatures in his path are victims. This one more so. Blackfeather Woods will fall. A Red patch marks the wolf's shoulder. He narrows his eyes. It's a paw print. "What is that?" He questions, attempting to act friendly. It could very well end up being his mark. A paw print of death. He smirks. Stop! The voices warn. Hide! They snarl. Lips relax, he is smiling again. Did the stranger notice? He hopes not. Day one and his intentions leak through. Deception was easy. He was good at it. No time to start failing now.

If the wolf had noticed, would it matter? He could play it off. Drip out a lie. That was the easiest. He was creative with his lying. Not enough, the light inside whispers. Bragi knew, it sweetly hummed. That goodness again. He squashes it, pushing it with the dark. It flees. His uncle is dead. That never mattered anyway. The fool knew, but he blinded himself with hope. It was fun while it lasted too. A lovely shade of fear always hanging over the old wolf. He gazes at the black male in front of him. Would this one be the next victim? This male is large like himself. He would make a good challenge. Grim can see an excellent fight with him.