The blood felt cold against Itzal's skin and it brought him back from his anger induced haze. He looked down at his hand again, the sun light catching the red in the blood, making it shine like a ruby among a black sea. Itzal sat there, captivated for a few seconds before licking the blood from his hand and smiling. The scent had filled the air and Itzal liked it. He took a deep breath, letting the scent wrap around him and make him smile. Itzal would never get tired of the smell and taste of blood. Never.
Itzal glanced up as the scent of a female blew his way. His eyes landed on a female coyote, who was walking towards some targets a little ways away from his own. Itzal cocked his head to the side, wondering if she was new. Itzal hadn't seen this female before, which he found odd. Even if he hadn't conversed with most of the pack, he had at least seen them around or at pack meetings. Itzal looked away, but kept his other senses on the female, his own cautious and untrusting nature taking over, as Eztli wondered about this female. She would make good prey, Eztli said, whispering in Itzal's mind. She might run. Or maybe she would stand and fight. I always love the ones who think they have a chance... He said, followed by that hollow laugh. Itzal growled softly to himself. Itzal heard a smack and looked behind him, back at the coyote. As he watched her, she loaded another rock into some kind of contraption, and sent something flying towards the target with an audible smack. As he watched, she spoke to him. He glanced back at her from the target, wondering what her game was. She certainly seemed to know how to handle herself. Itzal smiled, shrugging. "Guess that depends on what you mean by fun!" He called, turning to look at her and leaning back on the target he had been practicing on. "I'm Itzal. Who might you be?" He called, and then, when another question popped into his head, he had to ask, "And what is that thing you are using?" Itzal asked, raising and eyebrow as he looked again at the target she had been using. His attention was called down to his hand as a drop of blood fell from his knuckles, landing in the dirt and making it a nasty orange color. Itzal looked at the spot where it had landed, then he glanced back up at the female, ignoring the blood once again.
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