-- Oh man, no, this is perfect. But I've marked it mature as a precaution since... well, everything involving Machi tends to end up mature. XD
Machidael is by me!
Stalking through the city had proved useful to Machidael. He had come across a number of things he found rather useful, stuffing them into his pack. He had learned his lesson and no longer traveled without his weaponry, and so the spear was slung across his back, his daggers easily accessible. Thus far, however, Machi hadn't an encounter to rival what he'd experienced with the pale coyote. The rust-hued jackal was beginning to suspect it had been a fluke -- coincidence or extreme luck, perhaps. Surely there were few who could challenge Prince Machidael.
Yet he knew, also, in his deeper mind, the falsehood of such a statement. Surely Halaki and Twensu could have ripped him to pieces if they'd wanted -- either of them alone could have accomplished the job. Machi was useless without his weaponry -- it was what stood between him and being conquered. For one so concerned with his status and freedom, however, Machidael was not one to spend much of his time practicing. His practice had been the blood-soaked sand in his homeland, and the raiders had been his teachers. What could he learn here, with the weak and well-fed as his prey?
Quite a lot, it turned out. He had been stalking after the mutt-dog, fascinated by her condition of pregnancy. Slinking through the shadows of these abandoned buildings, carrying his bulky and awkward spear so it would not jostle or scrape against anything, Machidael was a ghostly figure. It was not his custom to be quite so sneaking, but he had no horse. He could not valiantly charge forward at his prey -- stalking was a necessary component of his work here. He had, unfortunately, bumped against something and caused a rustle of noise -- but it was just his luck that Zadkiel had chosen this moment to emerge, startling Machidael himself. The mutt dog, turning her attention away from Machidael's direction and toward this earthen-streaked newcomer, was quick to move away.
Machidael followed, dropping back some distance to give the pair added room. He was out of earshot when the yelp came to his ears. Scuttling forward at a faster clip, the hybrid soon found himself looking on the tawny yellow wolf -- and the considerably less furry woman. Cerise fluid pooled at her feet, and Machi cocked his head at this strange choice of cut. The woman was petrified, quivering and shaking beneath the tawny wolf's knives. Wordlessly, Machi crept around to their far side, standing so he might be viewed by the stranger with the knives.
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