07-28-2009, 05:17 PM
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Already his mood was far less than cheerful. A scent carried through the raindrops and the coyote’s fangs bared, searching the gloomy twilight for the source. It smelled like a wolf, and it smelled like a coyote—a hybrid, obviously. Hunger pierced his belly as the monster spied the prey, parting his jaws and longing to take a bite of the flesh beneath that silky coat. She called out to him, fear and uncertainty underlying her words and that excited him. The hybrid was damp like a rat from the storm, matted and appearing half drown as she moved solitarily through the city. No scent of a pack clung to her pelt, and so Samael assumed she was completely alone. The perfect prey, for no one would miss a little stray gone missing. Bloodlust bubbled to the surface as he slunk closer, half circling the girl. “Good evening, M’lady,” said the Prince with a slight bow, pausing near the canine. “All alone on a night like tonight? Why, that just won’t do,” he stated in mock surprise, as though honestly shocked this girl could be left alone. He smiled softly, veiling the true madness within the hood’s dark interior. But he’d lure her into a false sense of security before striking, allowing the game to continue as long as possible and the shock of betrayal to make his meal taste that much better. |