Malignant Felicity is a paradisaical abode to the faithful remains of a mighty pack. Once ruled by the magnificent wolf Genocide, now the wolves of this pack follow the laws of the Alpha Lance, son of Sorna, Beta and Genocide's best friend...

The sounds of crashing water fill your auds as you enter this tropical paradise. The tall trunks tower above you. The treetop canopy's seem to shade the beautiful land from the sun's rays. What a paradise this place seems. This place dubbed Malignant Felicity. As you draw closer to the boarders a stench slowly devours the air around you. The stench of death.

"Beware..." scream the birds from above you. "She kills for games. She kills for fun." Something deep inside tells you to listen. Your body tells you not to go no further. Do you listen or do you dare move into the pack borders. This could be a life or death decision...

Follow the Queen, or become a corpse that lines her border. The choice lies with you.

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in hell, that is.

The shadow crouched silently through the trees as he followed the scent of the demoness. Would they never learn to wait at the borders like good little wolves? Not that he minded, more blood for his unquenchable thirst. Hell, maybe Devil would have fitted in perfectly with the clan of wolves called Demonican, but then, he was never one to get along good with a tight knit group. This pack was perfect, all spread out. he could basically do whatever the hell he pleased as long as he showed respect to Queens, and well, that was never hard to do. Her deadly nature could make him hard in a second, she was indeed a devil to behold. He could never drop so low as to soldier on for just anyone. No, he'd only show such deference to her and her alone. This wolfess who carelessly stepped over the border and padded on through the territory searching for life like she already owned the place, it pulled at his seams of sanity like nothing else. So what if her dial was dropped in respect and her howls were filled with pity? All the more reason she shouldn't be alive. She had already demolished all signs of respect by not staying at the border till an alpha arrived. If he didn't do it, Queens surely would, and why should she have all the fun?

Licking his chops with delight, the bronc paused in the shadows as she stopped, taking a second to let her last pathetic song react over the land. Get a good call out, sweetie, its the last thing you'll ever do. His lanturns moved over her delicious curves. He could just as easily rape her then kill her, his trademark, but then he never did that with the disrespectful slime who came here. No, that was best done in the open lands, where it was no one's turf to call the shots. He was sure no one would call him out here, in fact, some of the other brutes might indeed line up for their turn. None the less, it was best to just kill them and be over with it. The huntress before him would never disrespect another pack, because she would no longer be breathing. He coiled down to the ground, his breathing level and calm. Inhaling her scent one more time, he suddenly launched out with no warning, incisors already open for the shot. They found her throat quickly, as he had circled around to be facing her in the woods. She might have gotten a glimpse of his sunkist viewers, but it would be the last time her globes saw anything. They would be blind to the world after tonight.

He bit down in a clamp hold on her jugular, already feeling the crimson sliding down his throat ever so easily. He could feel her moving, perhaps trying to escape his hold or maybe even giving up already. He hated when they gave up. Clamping down even harder, he suddenly ripped his crown back, pulling out the throat with him. Blood began to squirt everywhere, soaking his face and chest and fore legs. She either danced around with wide orbs, trying to figure out what was going on, or just fell lifeless to the ground. He really liked it when they danced around. It was kind of like watching a chicken with its head cut off, like they didn't know they were already dead. Quite hilarious. He dropped the throat piece, a maniacal laugh stirring in his own throat as the blood continued to squirt till there was no more left in the empty corpse. Sitting on the terra firma, he waited till she was completely still, enjoying the scene till then. His lamps glowed with the beauty of it all, the masterpiece before his very orbs. He enjoyed it all in silence, his laugh long gone from his lips. Gazers lifted up the sky above, thanking the moon and stars for their guiding light and cloaking darkness. He was not religious, mind you, just a wolf full of gratitude for the death he had just given to the night.




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Devil May Cry//male//gray wolf//four years old//black coat//golden eyes//single//manipulated by DarQ






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