Shark's teeth
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[/html]Vindicate hadn't done much with his time in Inferni yet. Which was not to say that he did not have plans or aspirations to do things. He was just far too lazy to get them done. War was brewing. He could taste it on his tongue, in his bones, thrumming through his bloodstream. There would be bloodshed and mayhem and he would enjoy it greatly, when it came. Crunching the bones of wolves between his teeth, savoring the taste of victory. He assumed a victory, because he was arrogant in his own way, and confident in his youth. And in the stupidity of full-blooded wolves.

The boy crouched, his tail brushing the ground as he stared with an interested gaze at a rabbit that was happily eating nearby. In a quadroped form he would have felt more comfortable in attacking, hunting, feasting. But his Optime form was not made for such things. Briefly, he contemplated shifting, but it made no sense to do so. He wouldn't even be changed before the rabbit was gone, and besides, it was a tiring process. Instead, he lifted a rock, and threw it. Right at the rabbit's head.

Of course the rabbit caught on before it hit her, and ran, bolting and darting in the zigzag fashion that they were so accustomed to. Away from him. Not that he could blame her. He would run from him too.


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