Shush, it was a good post 
300+
Electric blue orbs glared at the approaching sunrise with cold distaste. The creature found the night far more appropriate, and was now starting to feel a light urge to travel back to its dark premises and let black swallow it fully. This, however, was an impossibility. The chocolate brown man was hours away from the cottage he once had taken from his mother when he first had taken on the Dahlia de Mai tag and he rarely allowed his body to relax in neutral lands these days. The demon had yet to see the war bloom into that beautiful red thing, though knew well that it was always silent before the storm came crushing down. Anticipation rippled through the beast’s spine as it continued to walk north through the twisted scenery of the long fallen empire of man.
An earthen coated ear swivelled lazily as a female’s voice broke through the voices of early birds. It was a canine like this body and he did not doubt that the creature of flesh was expecting his own voice to rise up and ensure her that there was no danger. Now, why would the Dahlian do such a thing? Her voice sounded moments later again and the sound caused the furry ears to fully flatten. His impossibly blue orbs softly fell away from the approaching light of day to pinpoint the direction the voice was coming from. The shortened tail of the beast moved slowly, brushing the animal’s hackles gently, though not at all in good spirits. Jaws parted and grinded together again as the male took in the empty taste of nothing between his decaying fangs.
Light amusement dully made its appearance within the dark hearted creature as the female’s voice sounded a third time and edged him on. He moved then, drifting towards the owner of the voice disguised by a towering mountain of metal and empty windows. He skipped the corner and continued straight forwards for a few moments before his body slowly halted in the middle of the broken road and his face turned to the creature that had interrupted his tranquil morning. The woman was black and the Alpha of Dahlia de Mai thought of Larkspur and his people’s ways. There was much superstition in the world and a coat blessed with the hue of pitch black night proved little. Intense blue investigated the lithe form, finding the scar on her face rather beautiful.
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