'Souls RPG

Full Version: That esculent macabre for the mouth
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What was another bloodstain on his shirt?

Odie grimaced, pulling the neckline down to inspect the bite wound on his shoulder. The puncture wasn’t terribly deep, but it had been left by large teeth, and it hurt like a bitch. Curling his lip, he pulled his shirt back up and dropped his head into his hand, claws tousling his hair in frustration.

He hadn’t even started the fight, this time.

And, had he been in his Optime form, armed with even the poorest of his knives, he would have driven off the other loner easily. As it was, the chalk-colored she-wolf had caught him in the middle of a hunt, when he was four-legged and vulnerable. She’d been in a dark mood, perhaps targeting him simply because she perceived him as weaker, easier to take her nebulous frustrations out on. Fighting feral, caught off guard, a small hound was no match for a large wolf.

Thankfully, she didn’t want to maim him, just send him packing. But she’d still gotten a good bite in, and there was a period of about two hours where Odie had stressed himself to the point of vomiting even though the wolf had shown none of the signs. After he recovered, he shifted, immediately reopening the clotted wound, and ran to find his belongings.

That had been several hours ago, and the burning in his shoulder convinced him to open up his bag, take a swig of whiskey, then glower at the quantity that remained.
Location is vague, so whatever works for you! <3