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I should have known they would come for them, the wolves who think themselves angels, bringers of justice and good looks. I've heard Heyel's story cover to cover and frankly, I'm unimpressed. He's a washed up white sap who thinks himself a god. I would love to show just how mortal he really is but he's too well protected, for now. I've been having fun with some random loners and while I've only killed once, it was just a taste of what's to come. I plan on killing more, of course and perhaps, soon. This male smells like Heyel so I'm guessing a son. I've heard about the markings they have on their sleek white pelts and his matches the bill just right. What's with all the red? I like doing that myself. The black female looked oh so yummy with her insides turned out. I think I'll experiment with that some more next time. He doesn't look like he plans to kill me, not yet, anyway. An interview perhaps? Interrogation? Smooth talk to figure out my true motives? I'm not so easy to figure out. I turn my reversed gaze on his slender figure, befuddled at first. Is this a female sent to trick me into thinking it a male? He's taller than me by a good ten inches but even with my lean muscle tone, he maybe has thirty pounds on me. A racer then, a stealth killer. He must be an assassin, or assassin in training. My eyes glitter. They send a killer to question me? How ironic. He seems slightly befuddled by my eyes. A lot of wolves are. I see just fine out of them. They merely add to my appearance. He underestimates me; I can tell by the derisive way he looks at me. Perhaps its my age. I'm three years old, not yet an adult but I plan on making my mark early. I think I'm making a good start. His first question is something he already knows the answer too. This must be his charm at work, trying to smooth me into the conversation. I decide not to answer, instead taking a cue from Fiera, the one I refuse to call that hated "m" word. I have no parents. I am a demon straight from hell. They are just my mentors. I tilt my head to the side as she did, creaking my neck so much that it looks as if it might break, eyes staring at him as the stare of the dead. His next question is not so smooth. Asking about my brothers, how sly. I won't give up Ankou that easily. He sits down, introducing him and now the real fun begins. Well, Azrael...you already know my name. I know when eyes are upon me. Your siblings still live...most of them. The one who gave you life is no more. She didn't make it through the hellfire. How awful that must be, to lose someone you were so close to. My voice is silky smooth, taunting him with my eyes. My face gives off only mild concern though it's all a farce. I could care less about the death of Zeivah, but something tells me he would care. Watch me push his buttons. He's not the only charmer here and I fear he's about to meet his match. Daemon_male_one year old_Fiera x Hyperion_no mate_no imprint_no pack |