quite eradicated
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Teeth grazed his elbow, but Ezekiel was faster than the cripple (he had gathered that, now, from the way the wolf carried himself). His amber eyes gleamed with anticipation and adrenaline. Red paws moved across the packed earth, his tail lashing high behind his back. The Aquila watched as the stranger continued to pace, to turn and to look for a way out. This was not what Ezekiel wanted. He wanted a battle. He wanted to feel someone against him, to know they were real.
This man only wished to run. They always ran. He hated when they can because he despised cowards and he despised knowing that they had left him in silence. The Aquila’s elbow was bleeding. He didn’t even feel it. Another deep, hateful rumble grew from his chest and while he did not move to attack, he turned to mirror the pace and allow a path to open—one leading away from Inferni. Once the stranger ran, he would chase; at least then he might feel something.
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