Haunted Wood Mama, we all go to hell

The taller male has splotches of blood atop his muzzle where he lifted the smallers head up and he absentmindedly flicks his black tongue out to lick the dripping fluid off his lips. He has to stop his usual smirk from stretching his lips at the taste.

As he licks his chops, he watches Clarence intently, the raw fear presented once more. Santi’s soft side is beginning to hate the fear that resides in the smaller male yet the shredded blackness that floats about in his very soul loves it. That part of him wants to instigate it; ignite that fear within him and watch him burn. Yet for some reason he does not. 

Though Santi doesn’t know much about Memory he does try and grasp the situation. Even then, it’s possible Santi is the most familiar with Clarence’s issues out of their whole pack, he decides to take initiative. “Amigo, you know you get like this, no?” He asks Clarence sternly, eyes still somewhat soft though as his ivory hues meet red ones. 

Though he isn’t so much angry as he is proud at what the younger is capable of. Though as Santiago sits new in this pack he still must be concerned for the wolf that remains maimed just a few feet from them. Santi remains somewhat confused since he knows not of Memory’s history. He still wonders what Clarence means by he wasn’t Memory. 

“We’ll talk later, Clarence.” He orders directly to the boy before gently brushing past him.

Addressing the male before him, Santi scans him. The damage most definitely irreparable, it will definitely scar. Though Santi shakes his head at the chocolate male before him. “It was not.” He adds simply in rely to Memory’s sentence. He leans down, teeth gently meeting the scruff of the others neck, looking to help him get back on his feet.