style="padding: 2px; position: relative; left: 120px; top: 9px; width: 244px; height: 433px; z-index: 2; overflow: auto;">
A direct segue from the last thread? And I’ll bring Cwmfen in after your post; and Cer is allowed to join if she wants, since Slay is her man, ^=^ Backdated May 16th (the actual thread was started on the 15th), dawn.
The diamond thing had fallen easily beneath his efforts—it had almost been disappointing. And its blood had spilled upon the dark grasses, leaving a bloodied stain upon the earth that would wash away in the rain, insignificant upon the history of this world. Before departing that place, the pied brute had sipped from that pool tainted with his blood. And then, with seemingly tireless strength, the brute had taken the diamond marked male, dragging him from that place only to drop him at his pack’s feet. Their weakness would be revealed, their inevitable doom known. And he would do nothing to help them.
Those cruel jaws gripped the other’s ruff, dragging him mercilessly across the lands. Those jaws pierced his skin, that serpentine tongue burrowing into the wounds of the neck to spill that sweet, hot blood into his throat, but they were careful—the male did not need this thing to die yet. This diamond marked wolf needed to deliver a message. No, Death had not yet come to rid the world of this wretched soul. It would be allowed to live, if only to serve this one purpose. And so the male made sure that the thing would live, if only for as long as his message to be delivered. Whatever happened after that was not his concern. Blood loss may call Death to him, or perhaps the pack would continue their viral tendencies and heal the damned thing. The pied Raven crawed once above him before flying ahead to the packlands. That bird would lead Cwmfen nic Graine to the dying thing. She would know. She would be warned. And soon she would come.
The jaws released the black and white thing, dropping his body upon the boarder’s edge. It fell limply from his jaws. He sneered, lingering there for a moment longer. Then he lowered his cruel maw to the thing’s ears. “She is not safe here,” the tenor voice whispered with a sneer. “And your pack will suffer for her absence at my side.” With the last echoes of his voice slithering into the other’s ear, the male rose. “You can tell her that,” the voice commanded, louder now. Then he turned, suddenly falling out of sight. The night was over and dawn was coming, released from the grip of darkness. And he slid into the darkness of the trees like some treacherous snake, slipping out of the pack’s fingers, slipping away from his daughter. And the pestiferous tendrils of the dark came, covering his path, hiding his trail.