It wasn’t long before his tall form began its strides toward his shop. When all he saw was black, and crimson nothing felt like it could do much to improve his demeanor. For the most part it had driven him close to a maddening fury. The sweet release of draining life would have been his old friend then, it would be so easy to relapse into a devil. To dine in hell, to reveal in the misery of others. Ohhh such a sweet delicious treat it would be to take out his anger, his depression, and feel alive. Was that what it took for him to feel that way? Such thoughts sounded almost sane, but one person sane is another’s insanity. The male himself was bored along with everything else; the trespasser had brought up a problem within him. Next time he saw him he’d undoubtedly just kill him and move on but even that thought seemed wrong now that he was held to Conor’s word. He could do it and no one would ever know but still the thought itself was maddening to him as he clang to desperately small strings to hold himself together before he fell into tatters.
So those footsteps that weren’t very practiced at this point, no attempt made to be stealthy, another sign of his complacency which ate at him every damn day, his form moved ever closer to his shop. Today he wouldn’t go home till late, he had some work to do to attempt to clear his mind.
The behemoth’s eye fell upon another trespasser then, at least though this one wasn’t hostile nor was he trying to be rude. Two things in his favor, it was one of the young wolves of the pack. Saul he thought to himself as he stood in the door for a moment wondering what he owed this visit. It would take much of his own will to greet in him a pleasant fashion but he attempted it none the less.
“Bonjour, What do I presume is the nature of this visit?” was his greeting to the young wolf, his eyes still clouded in hell, still unable to truly present a sane façade of his mind.
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