01-24-2010, 09:15 AM
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He wanted his skull, and for no reason other than it looked pretty to the morbid beast. He wanted to carry it around like a prize—perhaps even on his own face, and amuse himself with the hollowed out remains of a once-living canine. But he’d have to earn his skull, apparently. One silver paw came flying toward his face, and without blinking the blow crashed against his own cranium, sending a quick flash of darkness and blinking white spots into his marred vision. His body met the ground, skidding a few inches across the frozen soil before coming to rest just out of reach of his precious wolf skull. “Mine.. mine..” he mumbled beneath his breath, pushing himself back up into a seated position, though he didn’t immediately rush back for the abandon skull. Instead, he seemed to sulk just beyond her grasp, though if she came for him he wouldn’t flinch or run from her. That’s where he’d landed, and where he remain. Twisted lips formed a frown, pouting like a child at the meanness of the whole situation. “Yes, yes, do what you want. Anything,” he concurred, blank vision seeming to brighten for just a moment as she went over his proposal. She could be as mean to him as she wanted, just as long as he got his precious skull in return. Otherwise, the unfairness of the situation was apparent to the patchwork beast. “Frankie,” he offered, granting his name to the one-eyed woman on request. Suddenly, just as the last syllable escaped his lips he seemed to convulse. Body twisted violently, reaching with ravenous desperation at his neck and shoulder with the jagged claws of his one hind foot. Breath huffing audibly, he scratched viciously at his scarred, barely furred flesh—single bat-like ear flapping against his head with each movement. Fangs clenched, as though attempting to hold back the strangled, choked sounds that slipped past his lips with each strike of his padded paw. And just as suddenly he ceased all movement, lowering his foot to the ground with a soft sound and turning back into an immobile beast before the she-yote, peering onward with blank, expressionless eyes. |