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A sneer split the pied brute’s maw. Like a nightmare that persisted despite the efforts to chase it away, the Korean persisted, existing, standing there before the two creatures of this pack. Of Cwmfen’s pack. The brute’s fathomless gaze beheld those weak things, knowing that neither of them could stop him. Nothing would. It was the truth he believed not necessarily through arrogance, but because all that had stood in his way were wounded or dead. And today, he brought death as a gift, bearing it as the ancient Greeks to the Trojans. Cwmfen would be made to see that she was not safe within these lands. She would be made to come. Such thoughts, the indubitable conclusion to his game, riddled that black mind, echoing incessantly in those empty corridors. And as he stood there, as lithic as those effigies of long forgotten gods, he sneered. The adult bristled in his presence—it was as if the tenebrous tendrils had tugged upon that lighter, Dahlian fur with laughing mockery. And that quiet laughter grated from the brute’s throat, that mirthless sound accompanying the shadows that hung about him.
Then he moved, moving forward with that unnatural fluidity, as if he were truly made of stone and his limbs would grind with that grating sound. But there was nothing but silence, a heavy darkness that hung about them, growing heavier as he closed the distance. The black talons ceased to tear the earth as he paused, nose pressing against that intangible boarder with perilous proximity. And suddenly, abruptly, the sneer was gone, replaced by that black, hollowness of his emotionless face. “Have you come to me?” the tenor voice soothed, that emotionless sound dripping with the Death he would so surely deliver. His words could have come from the nightmare of some child, and yet the secui, looking down his cruel maw to allow that fiercely empty gaze upon those two things, did not extend his hands. There was silence once more, the pied brute raising his tail in dominance over this insignificant thing. He spoke again, those hollow words declared as if he spoke of a coming storm. “I have come to give you death, to spill your blood for my daughter to see.” Or perhaps his daughter had neglected to inform her packmates? He laughed that mirthless laughter in open mockery.
But the brute did not move from the boarders, those black eyes piercing the lighter orbs of the other as if he could see right through him, right into his soul and laying it vulnerable for his jaws to seize. Abruptly, his gaze moved to the small pup that had failed to obey its elder. A tongue, like a snake, briefly flickered from those hungering jaws. “Monster?” The tenor voice rose in mock surprise, that voice only marginally marred by his Korean tongue. “Do not be afraid,” the tenor sound soothed, his cold voice assuaging in the air as it drew in the youngling. “I will show you the way.” As he looked down at it, his ears raised above him like those demonic horns, he could have been some changeling creature, his raven’s form taking the form of a wolf, something familiar, something dangerously inviting.