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Cool; he’ll just beat on him for a bit before sending him back to Dahlia for Cwmfen to see—would you be up for a follow up with her?
500+
It seemed as if this diamond marked thing could recognize the darkness when it found it. The corners of the brutes lips twitched in that uncompleted sneer. The pied brute was silent, unmoving, as he watched those hackles rise upon the other’s body. There was fear in the air—it came willingly to his open arms upon the cool night wind. He breathed it in, drank it from the air—ah, that familiar perfume, inviting his jaws to partake. But that emotionless façade was adamant, leering at the Dahlian thing with those empty, fathomless eyes as if in mockery as those lighter eyes struggled to hold his black gaze. This thing...it amused him. But it was silent, and that silence was simply a confirmation to his soothed words. He had known the smell of that pack, had stored, had lurked beyond their reach until that scent was as familiar as his own—and to what purpose? Those black lips twitched again. Perhaps there was no purpose to all of this save to create that unease, to provoke his daughter into action. He would not relinquish the game—he knew how to play it.
The cold amusement that had flickered within the male’s eyes faded at the sound of his daughter’s name. Cwmfen’s. There was a sudden harsh silence within that emotionless façade. That name was disgusting on the other’s tongue—such disrespect. But there was also an error to his words, and his jaws split in a silent, mocking, sneer. “I belong to no one—it is Cwmfen nic Graine mac Corvus that belongs to me.” That soothing tenor dripped with that perilous blackness as his voice broke into that mirthless laughter grating upon the air. Her full name was wrapped about his treacherous tongue, and the darkness of his voice held clearly the right to his possession, to his daughter. As his laughter faded, that oppressive silence was allowed to persist, as heavy as the fear of nightmares. The emotionless façade was once more in place, its presence so sudden as to be startling. There was that dangerous stillness once more, and the world held its breath as if signaled by a single, struck bell. The shadows sighed.
Then the diamond thing growled, speaking to him with seething sounds. The pied brute raised a single eyebrow in cold calculation, the image of the Dahlian reflected in that hollow gaze. The Korean clicked his tongue as if scolding a mere boy. And in the stillness he stood as if he believed that he were a god, immortal and free of the rules that bound the living. “Such disrespect—it’s unbecoming, even of you.” And abruptly, silently, the crow wolf was moving with such celerity as to cause the air before him to part in his coming. He leapt, devouring the distance between them with the speed and precision of the killer that he was, merciless, unforgiving. The waters did not hold him back, nor the air or earth. He aimed to come down upon the chest of the diamond wolf, those black talons and cruel jaws hungry for that thing.