Itzal was somewhat pleased by the man's response. Even though most of Anathema's members came from dark past, they still had a problem when it came to talking about death and killing so openly. This man however, seemed to be one of those exceptions. They way his attitude shifted subtly and how he moved closer made Itzal think he had found someone who understood why he could talk about it with such ease and even joy. It was true that many people came to Anathema to leave their past behind, but killing wasn't Itzal's past. It was his life, his past, present, and future. Itzal wasn't sure that he believe in fate but if it wasn't fate that carved out his path, it was his own need for survival. If you want to survive as a pup on your own at six months old, you learn that killing isn't an option, it is the only option. And now Itzal enjoyed it. He enjoyed how good he was at it. The dark male had surely been blessed. He remembered one man crying about a dark angel, right before Itzal slit his throat. Maybe that was what Itzal was. A dark angel. Whatever the word angel meant, Itzal was sure he would fit the darker form of it.
Noting the man's interest in the pelt Itzal smiled, "I'd be happy to tell you what I can. I actually had a help from an old huntress, who often skinned different types of prey. I could show you some of the things she showed me, though I'm no where near her skill." His uncle's pelt was a trophy of sorts. Itzal had tortured him a long time before finally killing him, and at night, the pelt reminded him of those hours spent listening to his uncle scream. It made sure Itzal went to bed wearing a smile every night.
The fact that Malakai had his own people to hunt was less of a surprise given his interest and his reaction to Itzal's words. Itzal was confident that Malakai and him were more similar than he had first thought. He might not have the demon inside of him that Itzal did, but they both enjoyed what they did. "I assume it is safe to say that our interest lay rather close together." Itzal said, grinning as they walked. Eztli spoke to him then, whispering sweet words in his ear, This male is nothing like me. Like us. He is just another thing of prey. He bleeds the same color when his throat is ripped out as a rabbit does. Let me show you, . The last few words were whispered seductively into Itzal's mind. If Itzal hadn't been dealing with Eztli for years, he would have given in. But Itzal was use to the sweet words. And he ignored how they made his pulse quicken and his mouth water.
.GR2_Rio p {padding:0px 15px 5px 15px; margin:0px; text-indent:25px;}
.GR2_Rio b {font-family:verdana; color:#656877; margin:5px; font-size:10px; font-weight:bold; letter-spacing:1px;}
.GR2_Rio {background-color:#0b090c; font-family:verdana; font-size:10px; color:#d1ccd0; line-height:12px; width:414px; text-align:justify; background-image:url(http://i50.tinypic.com/vg24v4.png); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; padding:440px 0px 5px 0px; border:1px solid #000000; margin:0 auto; border-radius:18px; -moz-border-radius:18px; -webkit-border-radius:18px; box-shadow:2px 2px 3px #1d1d1d; -moz-box-shadow:2px 2px 3px #1d1d1d; -webkit-box-shadow:2px 2px 3px #1d1d1d;}
.GR2_Rio .ooc {text-align:Left; font-family:verdana; color:#dccab6; font-size:9px; border-bottom:1px double #656877; padding:0px 15px 0px 15px;}
</style>
Code by Kitty !