Ravensblood Forest The one that will occasionally openly steal babies

tremours raced the length of merrick’s body as he gazed back down at the little boy, the last echoes of the shriek reverberating in his head. so overcome was he that words dried in his throat; with a choking cough he turned away, putting several firm paces between himself and the small body slumped on the ground.
he fought for control, unseeing, shaking, and only when his breathing had normalized did he turn back, reining in the almost uncontrollable desire to break more of the delicate little bones.
his sense of self-preservation swiftly returning, it was with a more somber expression that merrick glanced to astara. the boy would need to be moved, and quickly; they must cover their trail as best they could. he had no way of knowing if she would condone what he had planned for the child, but that was a discussion for another time.
at present, the yearling stole forward and grabbed at the pup’s nape, testing the slight weight. he could carry the boy after a fashion, draped across his withers, but astara’s help was necessary to ensure he did not fall. quietly he waited, still thrilling with the darkness of what he had done, of what was to come.