It is blood that brings the Prince this day, blood that carries upon the air like the most pungent of smells and lures the darkened nightmare from the depths of trees and woodlands in search of the tantalizing delight that claws and scrapes within him, the demons of his mind screeching and screaming for the meal such a scent is given to offer. Yet it is not the doe he seeks. He desires another blood, a richer, fuller blood that sings with life and causes his stomach to roll and rumble with impending desire for the meal he is sure will follow as he strides forward. He comes on dark wings, on ribbons of silent discord like the Truest Angel of Death, pelt as black as the shadows he commands and the darkness he consumes until only the emerald green of deadened eyes shine within the shadows of the trees to fall upon the slender dark form of his victim. She is female, this he knows, the nightmare of Moladion, the truest Demon, the Dark King that plagues the dreams of others and feeds upon the weakness of this land has sighted another. He tastes of the air, wind pulled within his cavernous nostrils to sample her scent. She is not aged, nor injured, yet she is young, alone and vulnerable because of it. The wolves of Diveen, protectors of the free lands cannot help her now, they are to far from her and such is the fractured existence of the hulking male that he understands only threat few will come to her aid, few will dare face him- all bow to him. For years so long he has ruled, for years so long he has been the darkness of the night itself, consuming puppies left alone, feeding upon the weak and injured in that final deliverance of death they deserve.
Today he will feed upon Lexi- of this he is sure, for his mind seeks that which is vulnerable and a lone female is a vulnerable thing. She is shorter then he, lighter, faster perhaps and yet such a gamble she will play should she attempt to flee from Moladions greatest predator, the Black Prince himself, the offspring of Jaidah and Demtri, both long dead, the last survivor of the Judila royal linage, a Prince without a Kingdom and yet….he commands all before him. Seeks to feed on the flesh of Lexi as he slides within the trees behind her, silent, quiet, seeking to come from behind, hoping she will not turn around as she rests so unaware of her doom. He is not as other wolves, he does not feed on deer and rabbit, yet desires the flesh of his own kind, his mind damaged and twisted and broken beyond repair to leave naught but a damaged shell, a creature whom hungers- always.
His pace increases, breaking into a lope as he slides forward and a growl rises within his throat- the sound of the predator, a warning, should she choose to heed it. Perhaps she will be smart, perhaps she will run, flee for the safety of other lands or packs- perhaps she will attempt to fend him off- it cannot be said. He steps from the trees, that towering wolf of blackened obsidian, cold eyes of emerald green upon her as lips peel back from bloodied fangs and a snarl is rolled from his lips to spill with violent intent into the air as he moves closer and closer still, coming for her, coming towards her as heckles lift along his spine. He wants her to run…..he wants to chase….how lucky she is to meet the Black Prince himself, the most feared creature in all Moladion. Lucky her.