go west young man

Max Klein · 03-14-2012, 08:24 PM

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The truth of the matter was that the names of the clan—notably, de le Poer and Lykoi—were spread so thin that they were hardly unique. It identified them with Inferni, but other signs were more obvious to Max. Red eyes like monsters, yellow eyes like devil-birds. Prominently, he saw red as a sign of the bloodline—it was reflected in their pelts as much as their eyes. Therefore, to Max, Timori favored a lineage that was not familiar to him. It was a flaw much like his own; Max took after the Amarok that had spawned him, but he had finally begun to embrace this. A demon-god’s blood coursed through his body and made him mighty.

Yellow eyes trailed to the young hunter, noting his rather dangerous prize. Max grinned toothily at it, recalling the first time he had tried to hunt crab. It had ended poorly, with him ki-yi’ing all the way down the shore with a sore nose. Luckily no one had been around to witness his failure, and he was now confident with the technique Ezekiel had taught him. Their other dog had been thrilled with the fishing, and was already working on putting together cages and nets and all sorts of things to make “gumbo”, or something of the sort.

Large paws carried him towards the boy, who lost his prize in order to return his call. The white dog rushed forward, grinning with his spitz-grin, and slapped the crab sharply. It flipped over, exposing its belly, and Max let out a barking laugh of approval. “Wanted something more dangerous than mice today?” He asked, eyes gleaming.

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