Vendetta's Threshold

"Merry meet, Artic Warrior. Indeed, the cold is prevelant in such a desolent place. You may have beat me in the essence of warmth in such a frosty time. However, I feel as though I hold a flame within that make me immune to such weather ailements."

Slade lowered his thickly muscled frame, his ebony serpentine like tassel coiling across his paws. In his deep baritones, he continued.

"My calling is Slade. Slade Nightmare. I hail from the home of Nightmares, a place lodged deep within the hollows of Ancient Elms and Petrified Pines. I was once ruler of the pack, The Nightmares, before an affair between my wife and my second in command caused a bit of...disturbance, in the pack. And after I murdered both of them, I left the pack, and made my way to a place just as blood thirsty."

Slade tapped a shadow webbed large paw against the ground , emphasizing his words and giving the BlackFeather land it's rightful title. Keeping his head held regally, he regarded the azure orbed man with his own fiery gaze.

"How has this land called to you, Burke? Have you too, felt the song of murder sing with your veins?"