You're the darkest burning star you're my perfect disease
I am moving with a sort of rythmic grace that I never really notice, it's something that's just thbere I don't gloat about it like those angels do. My muscles ripple beneath my deep auburn coat, the coat that is closest to the hue of blood that can be achieved, and to achieve that it took an intermixation of deep auburn, dark russet, and bright cinnamon. It is fitting that I am the colour of something I almost always crave, the taste of blood is simply...addicting. Quick paws merely touch the earth before a briefest of moments before leaving it again, my light green blue eyes keeping a watch. It isn't long before I catch sight of a gathering and this isn't exactly what I was looking for, my tongue swiping over my jaws of it's own accord, so much blood could be harvested from these, so much indeed. My muscles ache to coil and release, every breath taken into my lungs wants to be accompanied by the ytaste of blood. However today I am in control of myself, I do not let the lust for blood permeate my mind, and I am proud of my ever growing control of myself.
I am still more of a wild card than my older brother Baphomet had been, I have never been quite in control of myself as he had been, and I guess our difference in coat colours had perhaps testified that. He is of the traditional demon hue of black marked in blood hues, I am perhaps more striking to look at, coated in blood hues and marked in black. Baphomet had been alpha of Iromar, he took care of everyone to the best of his ability, and I have never been deemed worthy of such a title, I don't even have a single wolf that likes me. I cannot be a leader of wolves who hate my mere existance, unless of course I simply ate them all, but then I would be an alpha of an empty pack and that's not an alpha at all. I know that I am a wolf who would be prone to play favorites, maybe it's something in my blood maybe not, though I have yet to take a particular liking to anyone. No, I don't think alphaship is something I desire right now.
My whole term growing to adulthood had been twisted and warped, even my younger years of adulthood are just wrong by many standards, and yet to Moladion I am just another demon. I had a father to lecture me somewhere, a mother to love me, I live in a pack with other wolves, and I have siblings. They don't know how these things are to me however, my life has been harsh, and in return it has warped me even more than the average demon. I had my personality twisted into two, a sociopath, and as I circle the outskirts of the gathering I am determined not to let it show, no they cannot possibly know me. My eyes flicker over each wolf gathered, sizing the lot of them up perhaps, light green blue eyes void of emotion besides the cold calculativeness they hold when in such a state. They should run away, they should avoid me with every fibre of their beings. Yet by the looks of them it's a tougher crowd than usual, my head lowers the slightest as I move and take my seat. I will watch, I will see what happens, I will utter no words. To them I do not exist.
G A A R A
You think you got a foot in the door but you got a foot in the grave