quite eradicated
Sorry for the delay, work = my life. I should be faster during/after this weekend. Word Count » --
Paranoia had fueled Ezekiel for the past several weeks. His body ran on it, his mind raced; he imagined every shadow an enemy, every glimpse of moonlight the stag, and he grew to know hate as he had not known it in the wild. Society corrupted. People corrupted. He would have been better off if he had never left the forest and become a feral thing. Even the tribe to the north knew of war, and of politics and conflict. They knew of faith too, in its own way, and like his God they recognized the sacred value of blood. This was why he used red for his arrows, his sign, even the color of his horse. Blood, red, it was sacred.
So in a way, the painted skulls his sister produced were holy relics to be respected. Ezekiel had never seen them abused, so when he came across the massive wolf “playing” with them as a pup might, fury filled his mind. He did not enter states like his father; he was too controlled, too calculating for that. There was not enough wolf in him to make him mad. The Lykoi and Massacre blood had cancelled that out and turned him into a beast of reason and a beast of hate.
The transformation, so fueled by his fury, took only minutes to pass. The wolf continued to toddle along, oblivious. Ezekiel rose like a golden-black demon, his hair all on end. His Secui form was tall and thick, and his twisted snarl announced war. Yet he moved with stealth through the tall grass, and when the time was right, rushed from it. Bared teeth announced him as he rushed at the wolf.
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