01-06-2010, 08:23 PM
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His words invoked a hellish explosion of burning rage and blind fury that swallowed up every conscious thought within Samael’s head. In a matter of seconds his features contorted from sly, half-amused smirk to an enraged monster with eyes of fire and fangs bared to the hilt. He would tear him apart with his bare hands, ripping him from limb to limb and spilling his blood across the landscape. His head would rest impaled on a stake carved from his own bone—blue eyes removed one by one. Every black and gold hair that made up his mane rose, casting the demon in an impressive manner as his vision saw only red. “He will not live,” Samael spat, voice a strangled, barely coherent tone raised hardly above a snarl. He would not wait even until dawn to see to the end of Haku Soul, bristling as his blood burned like liquid flame.
This was what Kaena could not tell him and this was what had turned her into the hollow shell of her former self—broken and remorseful for what she felt had been inflicted by her own actions and not the will of a foolish madman that’d lost sight of the woman’s loyal following. Gabriel had told him this, and now Gabriel could expect to see nothing short of Samael turning and bolting off toward the horizon and the distant border of Dahlia de Mai. He could care less about the pack backing their twisted leader and he could care less if he died in the process as long as he took down the blue-eyed wolf with him. Lungs greedily sucking in the frigid night air and paws pounding against the frozen ground, he would not stop until the bastard lay bleeding in a pool of his own blood. There was no room for patience or collective thought when he wished for nothing less than to see Haku dead.
His words invoked a hellish explosion of burning rage and blind fury that swallowed up every conscious thought within Samael’s head. In a matter of seconds his features contorted from sly, half-amused smirk to an enraged monster with eyes of fire and fangs bared to the hilt. He would tear him apart with his bare hands, ripping him from limb to limb and spilling his blood across the landscape. His head would rest impaled on a stake carved from his own bone—blue eyes removed one by one. Every black and gold hair that made up his mane rose, casting the demon in an impressive manner as his vision saw only red. “He will not live,” Samael spat, voice a strangled, barely coherent tone raised hardly above a snarl. He would not wait even until dawn to see to the end of Haku Soul, bristling as his blood burned like liquid flame.
This was what Kaena could not tell him and this was what had turned her into the hollow shell of her former self—broken and remorseful for what she felt had been inflicted by her own actions and not the will of a foolish madman that’d lost sight of the woman’s loyal following. Gabriel had told him this, and now Gabriel could expect to see nothing short of Samael turning and bolting off toward the horizon and the distant border of Dahlia de Mai. He could care less about the pack backing their twisted leader and he could care less if he died in the process as long as he took down the blue-eyed wolf with him. Lungs greedily sucking in the frigid night air and paws pounding against the frozen ground, he would not stop until the bastard lay bleeding in a pool of his own blood. There was no room for patience or collective thought when he wished for nothing less than to see Haku dead.