bloodsport

Sirius Revlis · 05-13-2011, 06:39 AM

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Word Count » 3+

He was a wraith in the forest, a creature of sinew and power and venomous eyes. Shadows rippled over the male's pelt, and he was invisible. The raucous cries of birds stilled in his passing, for they alone could see the Hunter in his earth-bound dominion.

The land was his, and it felt sublime. Prickled weeds and hardy, lean grasses, gnarled trees and the constant moaning of an ocean-spun wind. This wilderness belonged to the Family, and they alone could seek to command it. But his chosen were a clever people, each with their particular skills that made them valuable. For this reason, the Boss was not dismayed to see the formidable dark silhouette, seated yonder on the hills. The tundra grasses swayed below him, barely betraying the flock scattered like off-white boulders amongst its spine.

Larkspur had intrigued him initially, but Sirius had come to hold the man in unflattering opinion. He was Eris' thing, the father of her children and an oaf with impressive build but little spark. For a man of the tongue and the mind, this was relatively unappealing, albeit necessary. Woe to the fool who sought to steal from the Salsolan flock, for the cunning leader had little doubts about their fate at the mammoth brute's jaws.

He emerged from the treeline at an easy, ground-eating lope; Silent like the coyote, but long and effortless like the wolf. The Revlis male himself was a peculiar mixture of both; Unlike the wellmuscled form of the D'Angelo, he was built tall and lean, with lanky but strangely elegant frame. Long ears lifted forward from a wolfish head, and shortish tail was held dominantly high. "Arbiter," He said by way of greeting, once the distance between them was shortened enough that the wind would not snatch his words away. Canny serpentine gaze regarded the man coldly as he moved in closer for the customary nuzzling on both sides of the maw. "How fares your flock?"

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