[M] - those who live are those who fight

Sicarus de Ericeto · 01-22-2010, 01:20 AM

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Word Count: 445

In Character

The tawny-furred werewolf twisted his head toward his companion, wincing with the motion. Thanks to his damn hood draped over his ears and forehead he couldn't look at Kai without doing that, and it hurt every time. Still, with his weapon, Sicarus was extra certain of himself. It was not a difficult thing to wield; Sicarus was certain he could inflict damage with this weapon. It was crude, it was simple, it was efficient, and he was going to bash some skulls in—both some already bleached-white ones and some live ones with brain tissue still inside. Sic was going to fling grey matter all over their damn border; how would they like that? "Oh yeah. Big man will have to say hello to my little buddy this time around," the werewolf stated, hyped up on his own adrenaline, feeding off of the other man's excitement. They were off to do what teenagers did best again—fuck shit up.

The sharp orange eyes of the Italian wolf were completely focused on those decorative skulls. They were meant to stand for something—well, Sicarus would see what they stood for after he had smashed them all to the ground and pissed on the dust left behind. He was aware of his packmate somewhere behind them; though he did not know the man's identity he was glad for his company. The more power they brought to Inferni's door the better Haku looked in the end. Kai and Sicarus were both deeply loyal to their leader; they would not hesitate to do their absolute best to please him. The white bibelots dangling there on the borders taunting him goaded the tawny werewolf to take faster steps, his darker ears flicking back to catch the words of his companions. "Fuck no!"

With that, the Bluet charged forward, now holding his bat upwards, charging toward a particularly large wolf skull. Sic swung, and a loud crack issued outward, shattered pieces of bony white exploding from the remnants of the skull. Some of them still clung to the tree by the posts that held them, so the wolf prodded at them with the blunt end of his bat until they too fell, and kicked them around some, putting on a rather angry show for his companions. Hell, he was angry—the life of the girl had been stolen from him outright. She belonged to him, and that damn other wolf had bested him, surprised him! Snorting loudly, Sic spat on the remnants of the skull, letting out a shrill laugh as he moved down to the next skull, raising his bat once more to bring it crashing down over the thing.

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