Word Count » 3+
Words flowed quickly from the rough brute, as though they had been waiting for some time to be spoken. They were insolent words, traitorous and detestable, but Sirius had known them to be in the heart of the D'Angelo man since the foundation of Salsola. This challenge, although apparently Larkspur had no desire for his rank, was a weakness within the Family - A flaw that could not be permitted to exist. The cunning male saw, dreadful and true, what had to be done to secure the coal beast's loyalty. Perhaps anger stirred his blood to adrenaline, for Sirius no longer felt a surge of dread, but rather a deep and simmering fury that his character could be so insulted.
For a moment, the two males seemed to glare at eachother in open dislike, almost hostility. Larkspur's threat hung rancid in the air between them, festering within Sirius' growing determination. His teeth, yellowed from seeking the blood of so many, flashed in a snarl to match the much bulkier Larkspur's. "So be it;" The snarl thrummed from his throat, the male's elegant tail held impossibly high. All pretence of civility seemed momentarily dropped as the hackles along the coywolf's lean spine rose, bristly. For a moment, it seemed he would be so foolish as to challenge Larkspur, then and there.
But Sirius, of all creatures, was not foolish. His bright intelligence had proved to save his hide many times, and although it was dulled by the anger, the cunning male used it yet, a tool sharper than any sword or tooth. Long, coyote ears flattened to his crown. "Come with me. We are going bearhunting." No option was given, as the Hunter immediately turned on his lean haunches, long legs pressing into a stubborn, ground-eating lope. At the bottom of the hillock he turned again, poisonous eyes setting slitter pupils on the beast. "Where did you discover the sheep carcass?"
It seemed an incredibly foolish thing to do - Two wolves alone against a bear were very unfavorable odds. Worse still, they were both in their fourlegged form, Sirius without the daggers and hunting knives he used so well. This would be a primal hunt, requiring the stamina and strength and instinct bred into both males from their ancestors at the beginning of time. And if the Revlis man survived such a reckless feat of skill, then there was little doubt in his mind that he would secure the loyalty of the brawny Larkspur.
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