03-10-2009, 06:59 PM
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You stole my Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck! That fucker! He had touched his face. Removed his wrap. No one did that. Fucking no one. He would pay. Oh yes, he would. This was about more than justice now. The brown beast had made it personal. No one was allowed to see his eyes. To mistake him for some demon instead of a servant of justice. As he ran through the aisles he knocked toys off of the shelves to create a racket. Metal ones, ones that bounced, anything to distract. Coming to the opposite end of one of the shelves he found a thin, gleaming object. A wicked grin shaped his lips as he lifted the golf club from its place. Perfect. A few yards down he heard something hit against the wall hard. Snarling the coyote quietly climbed to the top of the nearest tall shelving unit. He removed his fedora and set it down softly once he was on top. Eyes of obsidian caught sight of the wolf make his way into the aisles with a wooden bat. Metal beats wood, scum. Onus crouched low on his perch and waited silent as the dead for the other to pass into his lane. A loud buzzing sound started in his ears. Eyes were unblinking. He would learn to never fuck with his face again. As the brute passed by him, like a shade he jumped into the air, club raised above his head clasped in both hands. Coming down he aimed at nothing in particular, but whatever he did manage to hit would be hit with a devastating force. Dark orbs smoldered, hoping to see blood and broken bones.  |