Cedar Sweep End Of Nightfire

@Ithrik

Fallyn couldn't stay in timdome anymore with a brother who couldn't remember her face. A tear fell down her face and a sigh escaped her lips as she fled from the home that had accepted her.

The piebald creature prowled with a cruel intention; his gaze scoured the territory for a meal, hoping that some passerby would slip through the wood and into a widow's trap. He had been apart from Iliksis for a little longer than he would have liked, but he knew that they had shown more success in hunting alone than they had together. His tactics were so far from his nephew's that it became a challenge to balance the two. Still, he was eager to see what rewards his family had reaped in their time apart.

On stilted limbs, Ithrik sauntered forward, and when he thought he might turn to leave the wood for better prospects, he caught sight of a sad and lonely little figure. A gleaming smile curled the dark leather of his lips and he rasped as his breathing increased with each lengthy stride. When he had closed a majority of the distance between himself and the other wolf, he stopped to sniff for others. The devil did not wish to find himself at a disadvantage when hunting. “Sad girl, what's wrong?” he inquired with a curl of his lip over rotten teeth.

She was not alarmed at first but she had noticed his teeth and that made she-wolf back up in fright. "I'm fine." Her voice shaked as she watched the male cautiously

The woman tried to feign that she was alright, but Ithrik could smell sadness flowing from her; she reeked of it. His eyes roamed her once more and he closed the remaining space between them. “Don't lie to me, girl,” he growled with a sinister and rasping chuckle that followed. His limbs were taught, preparing him to overtake her if she should try to run, but he wondered if she would even notice the dark undertones in his words. The devil did not truly care if she was fit and well; he only wanted to know if he would have an advantage in overtaking her. As it stood, he was growing confident in his chances.

She heard his growl and she responded with one of her own. She watched him, unaware of what would happen next but she kept her composure even though her fear was ever growing within her bones and mind.

The stranger returned the noise with a snarl from the back of her throat and his pelt rose to bristle along his back. Ithrik despised when bitches believed they could return his advances with the same callous and wicked intent. They were only there to serve a purpose to him, or so the Apostle had stated. With a clicking of his gnarled fangs, the devil prowled forward and drank in her scent. With no more than the warning of his rigid limbs, Ithrik sprung to beat his paws against her body and knock her to the ground.