She is not a dumb creature. She has the same desire for blood lust as I do. I have been trained by mother to be keen on facial expression. I know have valuable it really is. I know how my mother holds her face in a certain way, so different than the others. She does it to show her control, and yet I think she lacks in some ways, not using the power of facial expression to the fullest extent. I am not sure if Melek is like my mother, hiding her true intentions behind her mask. I think her sick joy is genuine. I can see that glimmer in her eyes, even in that one eye that seems a bit...different from the other. She grins, a sign that she is enjoying our little outing into the woods. I do not offer such a grin back, for I am too focused on the task at hand.
She grasps onto the broken bone and flesh of its leg. I find my jaws gripping down a bit harder as she does so, feeling a tense joy ripple through my very muscles. My own tail flicks behind me, an alabaster flag white as snow in this world of hell and unworthy, worthless creatures. I am finding that my desire to bring pain and suffering into the world was increasing with each moment I feel the sting of twitching electricity pulsating desperately in my jaws.
There is a labored struggle for life happening in my jaws, a struggled shared in the jaws of Melek as she stands before me, her eyes of two worlds coming in contact with my own violet orange. It is a bond we share together in this moment, a life between us. A life we control. A life we dominate. A life we will destroy as we see fit. I find my hackles raising like shining white spikes, raised in a sick excitement that runs through my cold veins. She is posed, ready for what I have planned. Though there really isn't much of a plan, more of a raw, distinct urge that I follow with no restriction.
My first pull is gentle. It is a simple test of the body on the creature being sacrificed by fate. I hear a distinct cry, a shrill sound of pain. A sound of weakness as I tested the limits of its construction. I grip a bit harder, my teeth sinking in further and only driving more of a primal rush through my young, growing frame. I tug again, rougher this time, my front paws planted into the ground as I pull myself back in a single tug. Melek's hold will ensure no escape. It ensures that the body will fail, as I hear the sound of separating bone in my next violent tug.
There is a distinct rip this time, a rip starting at where the limb touches the body on the limb Melek holds. My violet eyes dash towards it, and it becomes quite visible, the initializing sight of blood that begins to seep over the fur of the pathetic being. I find a pleasurable growl ringing in the air as a demonic lullaby, the last sounds to sing this creature to a permanent sleep. I find no better way for it to die, than to my voice, yet it will not die yet. Death is a long, torturous procedure to my subjects. Simply because I will it to be.
As the rip becomes apparent, and my body becomes stiff with rushing blood, I let my eyes dart towards Melek. I wish to see her reaction, to see what she wishes to do with this thing between us. It can say a lot about another, how it allows something to die. I will hold my grip and drain the life slowly, and I will continue to tug if I find indication in Melek's subtle features, but I will also take in her actions, for I wish to know more about her. Will she rip the leg completely off, or does she wish to let me lead? I narrow my eyes slightly, only a hint of my inquisitive thoughts in my momentary insanity.