They Only Come Out at Night -Private

[Havoc]

The sky was growing darker and darker as Fenris eased his way out of his kingdom; inky clouds shuffled him along and blotted out his light every now and then. Although it was far from afternoon, there was still quite a bit of time before Tor could claim the heavenly domain as her own; pastel clouds stretched from plain to plain, denying access to the lunar goddess for the time being and taking the time to dazzle the Transylvanian wildlife with their display. While most light-hearted woodland creatures would have taken the time to savor such beauty, there roamed a different sort of beast who though that such extravagant beauty was 'stupid' and 'pointless', along with other such undesirable qualities. The wolf pup was merely biding his time until darkness cloaked the land, so that he might tread less carefully in hopes of remaining unseen. Besides, havoc was more fun to wreak in the dark.

Padding in between the trees, the colossal sentries of the forest cast their shadows down upon his form while the tangerine light of the sunset shone between these shadows, transforming his once ivory pelt into a tiger-striped canvas. Bright blue eyes shone in the fading light, their lack of pigment rendering them an almost eerie silver. They roved across the horizon, scanning for potential entertainment, though much to the rowdy youth's disappointment, they found nothing of interest. His mind whirred with chaotic possibilities and distracted him so effectively that he had hardly noticed the break in the trees he had stumbled through, leading him right into a clearing of sorts.

Tall, symmetrical crags jutted out from the ground, forming strange rows with their crooked forms. Dead grass decorated the scene in large, unsightly patches as if, despite it being summer, it had never been graced by the rebirth of springtime. The air had an eerie stillness to it, and smelled dank and unwelcoming. Despite the feeling in his gut that churned his nerves and warned him that the territory that lay ahead was a foreboding sort of sacred realm, he shook off his instincts and padded onward. Passing by the strange stones, he squinted at the meaningless words scribed into them, trying momentarily to make sense of the foreign symbols. Losing interest quickly, as he did with most things, he simply snorted and moved on to the next row. A strange shadow darted from the side of his gaze, giving him a start and causing him to jump, his steely eyes wide with surprise. Turning his head in the direction of the illusion, he wore a snarl on his maw and his hackles went from being ruffled with surprise to being bristled with anger. He did not take lightly to being surprised or scared, and liked to believe that he was past such childish feelings. He truly believed that true warriors felt no fear, that those worthy of life were beyond those sensations that caused them even momentary weakness. Naturally, the only way to vanquish these fears was to face them head on, so he trotted off in pursuit of the thing that had scared him, a force that could very-well have been nothing more than a make-believe ghoul.

His chase lead him further into the graveyard, the shadows of the stones grew taller and taller, smothering out what sunlight had been left to lay between them. Night had fallen in the time he had wasted, and though it had begun to unnerve him, he showed no signs of fear. Curling back his lips, he let out a demanding bark, "Show yourself, whatever you are! Don't be a coward!" He took an aggressive stance with his paws braced firmly against the hard ground and his tail raised in defiance as he awaited an answer from the dark.

[Zane]

Curled in a half circle around the cracked and aged headstone, the wolf watched carefully for any movement in the otherwise desolate lands before him. His tail, always seeming to have a mind of his own, danced silently in the air, flicking alternately between the dusty earth and ancient grave marker. His eyes glimmered brightly, becoming orange beacons in the darkening sky. He looked up at the clouds, grinning as they spread like a plague across the skies until even the moon’s bright rays could not break through. Hidden moons made for a blacker night and thus more cover for him to disappear into. Then, suddenly, something caught the wolf’s eye. An approaching shadow seemed to be drawing near, small in stature, but not lacking in confidence. The wolf’s dark ears twitched, picking up the sounds of the shadow’s small footfalls until at last it became still. The dark wolf watched, waiting for his signal to move, when finally a voice shattered the silence around them. The shadow had spoken, though it seemed to have only demands and accusations to offer. White teeth flashing in a twisted smile, the wolf uncoiled himself from the cold stone and finally let his presence be known.

"Coward?", he purred in a low voice. The word came out hissing and slurred, giving the small stranger the first taste of his snake-like lisp. "My my...what a bold accusation for such a small cub to make. Especially in a place like this...who's to say what might come lurking." The wolf stopped for a moment, staring down at the stranger's small form. Looking into those cool silver-blue eyes he got the feeling that this would not be a repeat encounter, one he had experience in the past. Rather, the mann got a sense that there was more substance to this young wolf. If for no other reason then he had ventured to such a ghostly establishment on his own, even managing to keep the quaking tones out of his voice as he did it...which was more then could be said for many of the male's previous targets. Always looking to fan the flame of chaos in another, the mann sat back upon his haunches and decided to approach this encounter another way. To give this cub a chance not often allowed to others. To truly test the spirit lurking in his milky eyes.

"Well...", he hissed darkly. "Now that I've 'shown myself' as you so desired, what is it you plan to do? Surely you cannot fight me...you cannot win, but perhaps you had another plan. Another reason for calling out like you did..." Blazing eyes boring into the pup's face, the male's voice grew low and cold. "Tell me, now.", he slurred. "What is it that truly lurks in your heart of hearts?"

[Mm, sorry this sucks :/ Let me know if something needs changing.]

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[Havoc]

OOC: I liked it! I hope mine's okay. I ran out of ideas near the end....


Everything seemed to grow darker, including the illusive reply to his thus far unanswered question. Long, dark clouds drifted by effortlessly, as if on cue, to obscure Tor's all-seeing eye. There would be no witness to the event that was about to occur. Squinting his bright eyes which seemed to glow like eerie beacons in the darkness, his gaze was met by two flickering flames; orbs of a beast that conveyed much more danger than his own. They blazed brightly as though the moon had been there to illuminate them, though somehow they burned even brighter than even the lunar goddess herself would have allowed. Drawing in the contours with his mind that reality left out, Havoc estimated that he may have been rivaling a bear, in which case, he would have to make a swift and prideless exit, no matter how much running would hurt his self-esteem.

Still, he remained, whether paralyzed for the first time by fear, or held in place by sheer curiosity. His stance still reflected his boldness, though that was perhaps the only bold thing left of him. His mind and heart were contending with one another, as each seemed to race faster than the other with each passing second. Small clouds of his hot breath filled the space before his maw, and his mouth hung agape until the stranger finally spoke.

The beast was in closer proximity now, and the height of his eyes revealed that he was no bear, but instead of the same species of the cub himself. His voice was an anomaly, for it seemed to fill the air and close in from all sides; taking the form of the rising fog itself. "I'm not small," he growled in response to the mann's belittlement, his icy eyes narrowing, though it was only after he had uttered the phrase that he realized how wrong he was. This mann was at least twice his size and had over a year of skill on him. For the first time in his young life Havoc felt unevenly matched, and it was not a feeling he revered. Still, he maintained his brave front, feeling more challenged by this serpentine aggressor than defeated. "What do you mean 'a place like this'?" he sneered, keeping his eyes on the brute at all times. "You're a wolf, a creature of flesh and blood. Don't act like you're so special." His brother Lucius had been right when he told him that his mouth would one day get him in trouble, he just prayed that it wouldn't be this night; a hope that crossed his mind in every similar situation in attempt to immunize himself from whatever harm might come his way as a result of his foolish actions.

Eying the male warily, he tried to uncover his hidden motives. Of course, his own naivety, paired with the stranger's strong will and twisted demeanor rendered him unsuccessful. "What's it to you?" he replied, trying to make up for his lack of a true answer and prevent himself from sounding stupid. "It's not like you own this place, all you need to know..." He had gotten ahead of himself now, and a small glint of madness now shone behind his cold eyes. "Is that I'm up to no good." Hopefully this explanation would satisfy the strange mann, and they would both be on their way. the thought of maintaining a conversation with the creep was beginning to give him chills.

[Zane]

The serpent's eyes sparked in lusting hunger as he listened to the young wolf's words, his long black tail twitching and writhing beside him in a soundless beat. The male's teeth glistened in the moonlight, slick with saliva pooling in his mouth. The pup intrigued him, fanned the fire of malice in his soul, offered more possibilities then any of his targets had had in along time. After all, this one was showing a bit of an extra quality. Something that held the promise of evil lurking in the cub's young mind. Something that put him apart from the others Zane had taken in the past.

As soon as the the patched wolf has finished speaking, Zane was upon him, striking out in the coming darkness, his lithe body springing forward only to land inches from the wolf's defiant face. "You know the problem with youth?", he slurred in a deep cracking voice. The words came gurgling up from his throat, stalling on his tongue until the right moment. Until each came perfectly, punctuated and smooth, seeping out from his infected mind. Continuing, a curling smile cracked into his features, drawing his lips up until even more dagger like teeth were exposed from below. "I'll tell you what's wrong..." He paused, glittering eyes locking onto the young male's own pale orbs. "They're so impolite. Never knowing when to keep their damn. mouth. shut." With each word he moved forward, his dark muzzle snaking closer to the cub, teeth shut in a sickening crunch. Then without another word the mann was drawing pack, his inky talons make a soft scraping against the rocks and dirt. Before long he was back to his original post, crouched against the headstone, breath wisping in and out from his gaping maw.

"Besides...", he hissed coolly. You asked for me, did you not? 'Don't be a coward', you said... He laughed softly, mimicking the stranger. "Well here I am young friend, asking things you'll do well to answer. After all, I doubt you'd want to play my games. They aren't fun for smaller, weaker souls such as yourself. Not fun at all." Pulling further back into the shadows, the mann whispered one last bit of speech. "...and I am special, I assure you.", he said in response to the young male's earlier claims. "My name is Zane...and there's none quite like me."

[Havoc]

Strange behavior soon found itself plaguing the ebon male. His eyes were alight with some kind of ecstasy, and they seemed to be ravaging the frame of the young pup as he spoke, causing the already spiking meter of discomfort to rise further. Havoc had never encountered such an anomaly, and not knowing how to get under the skin of such a sinister assailant, he found himself unable to react at all. his usual bold demeanor had faded, leaving only the scared, uncertain pup that lingered beneath his tough facade.

Still, he tried to swallow his fear, and though he was not ultimately successful, he was still there, staring the devil in the face. This teetering on the brink did not last long, however, for the moment he stopped speaking, he was confronted with the gaping maw of the demon before him. Unexpectedly the serpent had lunged, his jaws gaping wide and his fangs reaching for the ivory form of the smaller male. Recoiling in fright, Havoc found himself unable to control his lightning-quick reaction. While it would have been far more impressive for an adolescent of his stature to simply sit unflinchingly in such circumstances, he was still young, and humility was an important lesson he had yet to learn. He felt like running, like taking himself far away from this horrible scene where he was made to feel like no one had ever been able to make him feel: Vulnerable. His blood rushed faster through his veins with each passing second and his eyes were wide with apprehension. The words of the stranger kept him rooted to the spot, and while he found himself taking a few involuntary steps back, his limbs were as rigid as his hackles and he was unable to move any farther. It was as though this spellbinder had cast an invisible veil around the both of them, making it impossible for either of them to cross the boundary.

He was unable to utter anything in reply to the slick stranger's rhetorical question, so he simply stood there, mesmerized like a fly caught in a spider's web, and strained his ears to catch the male's answer. Ironically enough this was one time when the mann's words would not prove true, for Havoc had taken the hint for once and shut his mouth long enough to hear what his oppressor had to say. It did not occur to him that this might be how he made others feel, though his method did lack a certain finesse. He had not refined his skill as much as this mann had, and more often than not, he came off as a mere annoyance than actual threat. This was all unbeknownst to him though, for up until this particular encounter, he had felt as though he was walking on top of the world.

With the serpent reclined back onto his tombstone of choice, Havoc felt some of his bravery building, his feisty nature somewhat renewed. Still unsure of what he should say to satiate the beast before him, he merely scoffed at his proclamation of being 'special'. Finding it unacceptable to be called a coward, he mustered the strength to speak, falling back lazily onto his haunches to ensure that he would not try to run again. "And what makes you think I'm too weak to play your games, Zane?" His usual look of defiance was plastered once more to his face. "Unless you just prefer to play with yourself," he spoke with a smirk. The tip of his tail twitched with pangs of annoyance as he sat in suspense, his chest pounding as he awaited both with fear and curiosity to see what card the snake would play next.

[Zane]

[God-modding approved.]

Gurgling laughter sputtered out from deep within the reptilian wolf. His lantern eyes flashed in the night, flicking quickly across the pup's form as they ate up the sight of him. As they took in the cub's fear bit by bit until his mind was ablaze with ecstasy. His voice grew stronger, louder, surrounding the two of them in echoing cackles. It was not just the fear though, that set the mad mann off. It was the stranger's whole demeanor. His defiant attitude laced with a slight unsteadiness, his pale flicking eyes, his temper, the way so much anger welled up within his young mind. All these qualities worked together to make the perfect target for Zane. The kind of game player he was always looking for.

Ceasing his laughter, the male crept forward slightly. "One might say I always play with myself....", he hissed quietly "After all, I hardly ever find a willing participant for my games. So many here lack vision...they don't see the prize waiting." Pulling his dark lips up in an ever exposing grin, Zane slowly began to move in circles around the cub. "Have I misjudged you?", he asked. "Do you have the vision? Can you play my game?" Coming back round to face the stranger, Zane kept himself low to the ground, even with the wolf's small form. "Wanna know a secret?", he slurred. "My compainions...my friends, they may not share my vision from the start. They may not want the prize...but by the end? Why, by the end of it all they're begging for it. You can see it in their eyes. See the desperation. You can see in that moment how they'd do anything, anything for the prize." Laughing quietly, his grin grew still wider. "Anything.", he murmured one last time.

Then, with smooth liquid moments the mann appeared still closer. His rotten breath puffed out in clouds around them, thick with the scent of past meals. Saliva leaked from the confines of his lips, dripping down to meet their paws below. Reaching forward with one pointed talon, Zane sought out the pup's flesh, searching until at last he caught him just at the corner of his jawline. Applying slight pressure to the wolf's skin, Zane traced his claw along the the structure of his companion's tiny maw. Then, pressing even harder the dark male tipped the cub's defiant face up to meet his own. "So tell me...", he hissed sharply, muzzle a small fraction away from touching the young mann. "Do you still think you can play? Do you know what the prize is yet?", he asked, forcing the pup's face to tilt even higher toward him. "Little misguided cub.", he said sounding falsely regretful. "The prize is death."

[Havoc]

Why he found it necessary to continue to try and upset this stranger was a mystery even to him. He had overstepped his boundaries long ago; the logical choice would have been to run and hide until the danger had passed. That was exactly what his instincts had been telling him to do from the start of the encounter. Like a fool, he had ignored them, and no matter how wide the strange black Varg's smile grew, the feisty cub was not put at ease. This mann kept giving him chances, and he kept batting them away like they were cumbersome flies or things he didn't want to hear. He was dancing with the devil and turning down chances to live, chances to get away, and he didn't care. That, or he just couldn't let the opportunity to stare such danger in the face pass him by.

As if on cue, the mann's laugher was soon ringing in the air, his chaotic guffaws ranging from loud, booming belly laughs to the more silent snickering kind that were uttered in attempt to recover from the episode. Rather than grow upset by Havoc's snide remarks, Zane seemed amused. For a moment Havoc imagined the the mann was attempting a normal conversation; he had begun to explain himself, he had given a motive. The subject was quick to change again, landing once more on the pup. He was being judged like a sheep for the slaughter. Had he failed this mann's test? He would hate to see what the result of such a failure would be. Instead, he would play this game until he was no longer able; he would play like a fool until this mann let him go or until he lost his own life in the stubborn struggle for dominance. It was doubtful that he would be able to swallow his pride in time to save himself.

The larger males words hung suspended in the air, a testament to his own wicked ways. Havoc did not doubt the mann's ability to end his life, nor did he doubt his will to do so. His slurred whispers chilled the cub's skin and pricked the fur on the back of his neck. The prize did not sound promising, and immediately he began to feel the lapping waves of regret wash over him again. The gravity of the stranger's words was staggering, and for that moment, peering into his fiery lanterns, Havoc was afraid.

He found it impossible to anticipate the male's next move. It was like entering a sparring match with a ravenous bear when you had just had sand swiped into your eyes, blinding you. He could smell the decaying flesh of past kills settled between the stranger's jaws and nestled between his glistening fangs. He salivated as a creature stricken with disease might do; no doubt he hungered for the moment when he could deliver his precious gift to the cub. Suddenly, he felt a tingling sensation on the side of his face that caused his body to freeze up. Icy blue eyes watched and followed as the male trailed a sharpened claw down the length of his muzzle. For a moment he thought his heart had stopped beating; he could no longer hear it thumping against the wall of his chest nor could he draw breath into his lungs. The spell did not last long. His heart began thumping furiously as the dark male grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up into those terrible, orange eyes. Adrenaline tore through his veins as he struggled in vain to free himself from the male's grasp. He was forced to sit and listen to the male's words with narrowed eyes and an exposed throat. This was it, he thought, deliverance was seconds away, after which there would be nothing. Squinting his eyes he scrunched his face with bitter expectancy. But the blow never came.

Finally tearing himself from the mann's hold he moved back a safe distance from the foul-tongued wretch (though was there really such a thing as a 'safe' distance when dealing with a beast such as this?). Breathing somewhat heavily he struggled to catch his breath, his face the very picture of frenzied confusion and a sense of realization that he was still trying to deny himself. "No," he said in disbelief, his vocals sounding younger and more suited for a wolf his age. "No, there is no prize... I don't believe you." His face was a blank mask as he stared up at those burning eyes. "You're no god, it's not your place to choose. They're not your strings to pull." He took yet another step back, considering once more the option of flight, though again he held himself in place. It was as though he was asking for proof from this demon, compelling the devil to offer up past kills and dig up old nightmares long since buried in order to quell the young pup's curiosity. The naive, cubbish side of him did not want to believe that such twisted tales could be reality, while the other half, taken in by the mann's gaze and toxic voice or by his own young imagination, was ready to stake everything on the mann's claims.

[Zane]

With his face plastered in the same hideous grin, Zane continued his silent vigil, looming over the cub like a constant reminder of the power he held over their situation. The youth's continue defiance prickled in his dark mind, stirring up rare feelings of blood red rage. It was not his style, not his taste, to issue a blood thirsty attack. Instead the snake's methods were slow and methodical. He worked the mind until broken and only then did he move to the body, enjoying the lethargic tempo of his dance. Of the length of time it truly took one's body to shut down, of the slowly fading light in his victim's eyes. He enjoyed it all with a hungry passion that was rarely put to rest. Surging forward in rage would ruin this. It would ruin his fun. So the thin wolf kept silent a moment longer, his bright eyes glittering in the dark, mouth stretching up higher until at last he had regain control of his emotions. Until he could feel the rage leaving him, being slowly replaced with the familiar feel of deception and cunning. For a new idea had clicked in his mind, a possibility that had yet to be explored.

"Tell you what...", he hissed leaning in close to the wolf's patched face. "I may not be a god...but I've created many a great masterpiece. Perhaps you should come visit with me. Perhaps you need to see the evidence of my words." The creature's face had a new look now. One not quite so serious, laced with excitement, a look bordering the delirious ecstasy he experience when the actual killing took place. This was the opening of a new dimension to his world, a new way to taint those chosen souls before he took them, a chance to show them of the beauty that they would soon contribute too. Zane had never shared his trophies with another, never taken someone else pack to the cherished sites...but in his crooked mind the wayward cub seemed the perfect candidate for such a venture. He was cocky and bold...and though occasionally phased he had not yet been reduced to a pile of quivering pleas. It was impressive to say the least...so much so that Zane wished to spend more time with the youth. To truly test his boundaries in this new endeavor and beyond.

Taking a few steps back, Zane prepared to move down the path that would take them to his most recent lasting mark on the world. He stopped for a moment, twisting his head back over a shoulder to peer at the smaller male. "Follow along now.", he slurred through exposed teeth. His voice was high and brimming with laughter, but the words were sharp, making it clear that there was other option. "And don't worry...", he added before turning around. "I'll have my eye on you...so you'll not get lost." With that he was off, slinking slowly across the landscape and further into the night, his voice floating lazily behind him. "And if you stray.", he hissed quietly. "I shall see you just the same..." A sharp cackle broke through the quite air, near masking the last words to be spoken by Zane before they reached their destination. "If you stray.", he repeated. "I will find you."

[Havoc]

I have to apologize for this post. It's been so long...

The control that the ebon male was exercising was no appreciated by the younger cub. Subordination was not something that sat well with him; it never had been. From the moment he was born, his dominance was made clear among the rest of the litter, and even among the adults of the pack. Though his assertion was rarely tolerated, he had experienced the element of control, however minimal it may have been. It was something he had grown accustomed to, so it was no surprise that he grew bored when his attitude no longer seemed to phase his fellow pack mates. Restless, he had left the claimed lands behind him, and had set out for unclaimed territory. It was one thing holding dominion over those that were bound to you, but being able to command respect from self-guided Kerl that wandered about was something to revel in. With this mann, however, his plan was moving steadily backwards, and the shame and degradation that he had hoped to bestow on others had been turned about to instead shame himself. Weakness was not something that he believed in, nor was it something that he would ever admit to, though it was a new-found trait that this mann had forced him to see. A burning sense of envy raged within his frame for the way this stranger made him feel, and how little time it had taken him to reduce the cub to near-nothing. It was not a defeat that would be easily-forgotten, though he would make no effort to remember it.

Needless to say, amongst all of his inner-angst, the male's proposition caught him off-guard. Disbelief was his first instinct; every fiber of his being was frantically telling him not to oblige, that this was only a trap for him to play into. The ebon mann seemed to sense this, however, and left no room for objections. He had no choice but to become privy to this fiend's dark dealings, and for a moment he wondered if he would have chosen any differently had he been offered an opportunity to decline.

His reluctant acceptance of the proposal was not without its silent complaints, for he still abhorred the idea of being molded into a follower. In his mind his pride was still trying to convince him that between subordination and death, the latter was the lesser of the two evils. Without uttering a word in reply, he took a few steps after the adult male, his head all the while hung low in a foreign mixture of defeat and seething wrath. Had he the means, he would make this male pay dearly for the humiliation he had caused. Vengeful thoughts were abolished when the serpent turned around to observe the cub. Those eyes seemed to peer straight through him, and though he had carefully concealed his thoughts behind a mask of fear, he had a creeping feeling that he had been discovered nonetheless. A few times he had considered straying from the path, wanting nothing more than to take one, two, three misplaced steps and be engulfed in the dark heart of the forest. The same, nagging feeling prevented him from doing so, and when he would pause for a fraction of a second, it was the dangerous feeling of surveillance that got his paws moving again. He wanted to believe that he was more capable than he actually was, though something about this night, this wretched encounter, had revealed to himself the incompetent fledgling that he really was. This scathing realization in mind, he kept his head low and his footsteps concise, as he trailed the demon back to the hell he had created.

[Zane]

Inspiration was not a new feeling to the dark wolf. He was often struck with new and inventive ideas to enhance his actions. Details and directions the likes of which he'd never explored.. It was true that often these sudden epiphanies were not good ideas, at least not good as anyone other then the mann would interpret it...but they were exciting none the less. So it was that he hadn't needed to think long before deciding to pursue the new opportunity that had sparked suddenly and sharply in his mind. No, hesitation had never been Zane's strong suit. His past and what had led him in this direction was proof enough of that. The night sky stretched above the two wolves with a beauty that might have otherwise been appreciated by a more willing eye. For the bright lanterns of Zane's gaze were blind to any such sight, any conventional showing that was often revered as something special. Instead he saw only darkness and the possibilities of bringing forth more. His beauty was here, in those he left behind and in the fates of those he would come to meet later. It was not in the painted sunset or glittering moon, but in the pure untouched red of his victim's blood.

There was a kind of joy, a kind of excitement in his eyes as they traveled. And though he had fallen silent as they moved, the male would occasionally glance back at his unwitting companion. True to his word, keeping an eye on the cub, flashing him a look full of anticipation. It was not a long trip and the two soon reached Zane's intended destination, the air around them heavy with the scent of ripe decay. There was a stump at the center of an otherwise barren patch of land and it was here that the serpent like wolf seemed to focus his attention. It was a tall piece of tree, that of some aged tree that had lost it's battle only recently to some storm or simple lack of nutrition to sustain it's continued growth. It didn't matter to Zane for such small details had no place in his mind. Instead he thought only of it's purpose now, of what lay upon it's cracked surface. Given the height of the stump, Zane knew that any grown wolf would have to crane his head to see what resided on top. That he himself had needed to brace on his hind legs to reach that distance and lay his gift to rest. This, he figured, meant the cub wasn't likely to see up that high either and this in turn gave him the perfect chance to slow their pace down some. To wait for the best moment before reviling to the youth his desired proof.

"Here we are.", Zane purred smoothly, turning to face the cub. "Are you ready?" Taking slow deliberate steps, the wolf started toward the stump in a sweeping pace. He regarded the dead tree with something like a passing affection, curling his body around the craggy surface. He did one loop around it's mass, all the while keeping up the close contact between his body and the bark. "They say that gods reside in the sky." The words came quite and whispered, seeming to come as much of his speech did, from nowhere in particular. Zane's bright eyes tilted toward the skyline as he spoke, more mocking then any sign of actual belief in such deities. "They say that there are some places in the world where you can feel their presence, that its these places that the gods descend to when they come to walk the earth. And that there are signs that signify such places. An alter for example, where you may offer your sacrifices and beg divine intervention." Zane's voice grew sarcastic as he said the last part, brimming with the thick laughter that was always tickling at his throat. He grinned, flashing his teeth at the patch colored wolf before coming to site before the tree's base. Almost immediately the wolf's tail began to twitch and move before him, much as it had back among the graves. His eyes blazed brightly and for that moment, silhouetted in the moon's light...Zane looked every bit the demon his twisted mind proved him to be. "Oh but I don't know...", he slurred lightly, innocently. "I don't know if I believe in all that. You see, I've traveled the world quite a bit. I've seen many interesting things." Striding quickly forward, the wolf brought himself back in close contact with the smaller male. He slunk down close to the ground, vigilant eyes boring into his intended target. "I've seen glory.", he hissed. "And I've seen divine. I've seen beauty beyond anything you could imagine." He paused, pulling his dark lips up to once more reveal the white teeth they hid. His thin body trembled slightly, feeling the energy flow through it in continuous waves. "But these were not the acts of any god, little one. Heh, they most certainly were not. A look of sharp cunning crossed Zane's face as he spoke, giving him the appearance of being more lucid then may have been true in that moment. It was this underlying darkness that truly made him dangerous for it was this that was the threat, the promised executioner that his words hinted at. "Come closer.", he whispered. "These acts of beauty were my own and this is my alter, little one. This is my touch on the world....and here is where you will find the proof you so desire. Come just a little closer now..." Slipping away from the cub, Zane moved quickly back to the dying stump. Circling around to the back of it the wolf reared back upon his hind legs and allowed the pressure of his front paws to rest upon the tree's surface. Then with the tender eyes of one looking down on something far more precious then what lay there, Zane looked upon his masterpiece.

It was an aged fox carcass. Decaying in the warm winds, the thing had obviously suffered a terrible end. It's eyes stared vacantly ahead, milky white and blind with death. Maw twisted up in a frozen snarl, the vixen's tiny teeth would forever be bared at the injustices that had been visited upon her. To the wolf they spoke of the pain she had suffered, of the cries seeping through her throat as she'd died. They were as much a part of picture as the gashes that crisscrossed her body. Each mark seemed practiced and deliberate, slicing evenly across the fox's flesh in obvious control. There was no rage here, or blood lust. The twisted back legs were testament to how the poor creature had been captured, telling the story of it's valiant attempt to escape, of Zane's powerful jaws finally closing upon the fragile bones. However, it was not until one's eye caught sight of the fox's neck that they truly saw the creature's cause of death. For everything before had been part of the play, part of the game. But here in tearing at the fox's thin skin was a slice deeper then the rest, stretching across the full measure of her small neck. It was here that Zane had ended his time with the fox, inserting his claw deep into her flesh until the soft beat of her blood had ended for good. There was an indulgent smile upon the wolf's face as he recounted these moments in his mind, as every last detail came rushing back to him. He eyes cast upon the cub for a final time, full of deliriousness that came with his heightened excitement. For a moment he seemed to freeze there, unmoving as he watched the white male. Then with a quick and sudden movement Zane thrust his muzzle beneath the fox's stiff body and sent it tumbling into the air and toward his companion. He remained fixed at his location, unable to move until the body landed. Until he could see the cub's reactions. As he waited the wind howled softly around, stirring at his dark fur. It's voice mimicked the male's as it came hissing deep from within him, encircling them as he laughed quitely to himself.

[Havoc]

As the two traveled, the cub following dejectedly behind the corrupt ebon male, not a word was spoken. Steely eyes peered straight ahead when they were not aimed shamefully at the passing ground beneath his paws. He hated the idea of taking his eyes off of the dark form ahead of him, for he had already demonstrated with his streamlined frame just how quick and precise he could be in his movements. Despite his haughty attitude, Havoc knew he could never stand a chance in a battle with this male, and so although it hurt him to do so, he spoke not one more word of defiance, and barely allowed his breathing to accelerate enough to be heard. Somewhere in the back of his mind he hoped that if he was quiet enough, the male's sporadic mind might forget that a pup was trailing behind him. Though every now and then, splitting the perfect blackness ahead, shone those two, terrible eyes, slivers of flame in the shadows. Each was a burning crescent that outlined the tyrant's smile, as though to say I'm watching, always watching. Stray not, for these eyes see all. Each look seemed to burn right through him, and he was quick to break the male's gaze whenever he would turn to face him. Yes, he hated the idea of letting his guard down and letting the mann wander from his sight, but even more he hated having to look upon him.

After what seemed like an eternity of uncomfortable silence,the ebon male stopped and turned to face him. The stench hit him full-on, smothering his face in a shroud of putrid rot. Curling his lips, his nose crinkled, trying to close off his lungs from the foul air. His azure pools came to focus on a gnarled stump, the centerpiece of the male's secret clearing. It seemed to be the source of the rank odor, and he was glad that he did not stand tall enough to observe it closer. The male's smooth voice sliced through the air like a razor edge, careful enough to make a clean cut through his mind, and yet it held a threatening edge. He watched as Zane sauntered up to the dead tree, sidling up affectionately to the peeling bark, a look of drunken pride painted across his face. Once again his hushed voice seemed to swell in the night air, the tones were intense, every bit of his derangia coming through in his vacant yet concentrated stare.

He stood silent as the mann's lyrics filled the emptiness. He was unsure if he should speak, or what he could even say to the insane ramblings of this mann. Surely his sarcasm had expired, he retained none of his former charm and to try and revive it now would only be a foolish, wasted effort. He had already swallowed his pride, he could not regain what had been lost. Not here, anyway, while his spine was still soaked with fear. His bright eyes spoke for him, scrutinizing the male's claims, dismissing the thoughts that tried to wrap around his mind that this mann might have been a god himself. Havoc placed no merit on the gods and considered anyone who followed them to be stupid and blind. This mann seemed to share that sentiment, though he still spoke regally, as though he had some divine right that was denied to the rest of the world.

He considered moving back as the male approached, though he held his ground when he saw that his intentions were merely theatrical. His icy eyes following the slithering form back to the stump, those same, burning coals beckoning him closer as the serpent flicked his tongue. Involuntarily he found himself taking a step forward, though he refused to venture any closer. What trick was this wretch trying to pull? Warily he watched as the male gazed down upon his prize, whatever it was, that was stinking upon the pire. Havoc felt his stomach wretch at the thought of his repugnant little treasure, and he wondered if he had chosen this time to sneak away, if the male would even notice. Yet still, he remained, the two of them seemed to be frozen in time as neither of them moved. Havoc's heart beat faster and faster as he tried to anticipate the male's next move, and whether or not he should try to break the spell now. Before he had time to react, the male moved quickly, sending his precious possession hurtling through the air, and coming to land with a muffled thud on Havoc's face before falling back to the ground. For a split second his gaze was met by the cold, lifeless eyes of some poor creature that had already begun rotting away. Milky eyes wrought with pain and torment bore into his own as though the beast had been cursed with lack of sight. The cub recoiled back in fear and utter shock, his throat emitting a shrill yelp as he flailed and fell backwards. Writhing as he struggled to his paws, he turned and fled into the trees, not caring to re-enter the graveyard, and not bothering to look back to see if Zane would follow. Let him! he thought as he ran to escape from the echoing laughter; at least he had a fighting chance.