Post by Sheppard on Mar 1, 2013 11:03:47 GMT
The soft growl of his wolf as he departed did little to assuage the rage that Sheppard felt. This was taking so long to kill these mongrel animals. The females at least should have been slaughtered by now, all of them. The fire alone pleased him - it was adding to the chaos, and he heard the building creaking and popping within. Every now and then there was a howl of the hunt, or a cry - sometimes of pain, sometimes... sometimes... of his favorite sound. The cry of the lost. Of those that are realizing that they are doomed. That they have been found wanting in the eyes of their hunter, and they are to be consumed by the cold hand of death. Of justice.
He bared his teeth, his eyes flashing as he saw Hunter moving out of sight into the building, and moved mercurially through the smokey air. Staying out of the thickest smoke aided to keep his senses cleared, but knowing that if he was compromised outside of the thick of it, those inside would be completely in a sea of sensation. Their eyes would be burning, their noses useless. His nostrils flared as he caught the scent of burning fur - flesh catching fire.
He'd killed one. Perhaps it was time to find another. He watched his cleansing action, weighing the next moves. His wolves were moving. Give them a bit more time - and then he'd pull his children away from their task.
He lifted his head and let loose a howl, barely heard over the roar of the fire for anyone further away. But for those in the vicinity - for the prey and for his children, it would be heard clearly.
Burn. Burn. Burn.
He bared his teeth, his eyes flashing as he saw Hunter moving out of sight into the building, and moved mercurially through the smokey air. Staying out of the thickest smoke aided to keep his senses cleared, but knowing that if he was compromised outside of the thick of it, those inside would be completely in a sea of sensation. Their eyes would be burning, their noses useless. His nostrils flared as he caught the scent of burning fur - flesh catching fire.
He'd killed one. Perhaps it was time to find another. He watched his cleansing action, weighing the next moves. His wolves were moving. Give them a bit more time - and then he'd pull his children away from their task.
He lifted his head and let loose a howl, barely heard over the roar of the fire for anyone further away. But for those in the vicinity - for the prey and for his children, it would be heard clearly.
Burn. Burn. Burn.