Nimbus Summit the debts of ukiyo

It seems she doesn’t want to join him. Oh well, more for him. So he has his gun for a few seconds. Whipping the poor deers body back and forth until a sickening crack of her neck sounds between them. Only then does he drop her lifeless body, still twitching from the aftershocks of death. 

He pulls back, black tongue painted with blood, teeth stained too. It drips from his panting maw onto the light cream of his chest and cheeks. A curled tail wags atop his hips and glops of drool mixed with blood fall from the drooping sides of his muzzle. He shakes himself out, a bit of drool and tufts of fur being taken with the wind or dropping to the floor. It’s summertime and his usually thick coat is falling out, can’t do much to stop it. 

So he runs his purple tongue over his lips to clean himself up some and he schools his breathing as he looks to her, excitement swirling in his eyes, but otherwise completely calm again. 

“Should’ve joined.” He hums with hardly concealed humor. After he makes another offer. “Come eat with me, dear.” He suggests evenly with a jerk of his head in the deers direction. “A good catch. You did well distracting her.” The Grandmaster compliments finally before moving to dig in.