Tonight Were Goin Hard..[p]

[Conor Soul]

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Ears dressed in cinnamon and caramel hues lay flat against a darker shaded skull, a classic sign of deep dissatisfaction. His approach was quick, though silent, following the scent of trespassers by the borders. Eventually there was the stench of clear fire liquid again. He was not their master, but he had something to say when strangers spoke of raiding so close to a pack’s boldly marked borders. Lavender hues had turned deep, overcome with shadow that hid more than even he was aware of. His life was not what he thought it to be, but time would eventually tell him this as it tightened the noose of madness around his throat.

”There shall be no raiding here,” the dark voice rumbled as the alpha trotted into sight, the secui form inherited from his father revealing a large, muscular beast. But that was surely all there was. Perhaps he looked like the demon that had attempted to paint ‘Souls’ lands with blood, but his mind was his own. Or so the poor Dahlian fiercely believed. How ignorant he remained. Lips drew up above pearly white fangs, exposed to strengthen the appearance of his displeasure at seeing these two canines here. This was not the time or place to show such behaviour, and thus he was deeply suspicious. They had committed no crime yet, but he was not about to allow them to get that far.