So it ever was. So will it always be. Such is the nature of evil.
It is so
easy. With each passing second in which the fur beneath teeth gives way to flesh and the pop of that flesh gives way to stringy muscles and the way the muscles give way to fat and flesh, Underidge understands. He understands why the Shade wishes for this male to be dispatched, a male much larger than Underidge, much more experience than the boy-man and yet weaker in the same time. Weak because he cannot see past the veneer of age that shrouds the ancient soul of Under. Cannot look into the silvery depths of his strange eyes and spy that the soul there is as shadowed and riddled with blood as an ancient wolf.
Weakness such as this could not be tolerated. Only the strong would survive. Those who would do what was necessary to survive and then some. Underidge was one of those wolves. For a moment his viciousness increases, his sharp canines bluntly rubbing against bones in the neck of the male as blood and gore topples and drips from the sides of Rio.
Movement out of the corner of one of his silver eyes draws his attention and he pauses in his assault for only a second, turning his gaze towards the newly crowned king Eden with flesh and neck still gripped in his jaw. It is only then that he begins to realize Rio had fallen quite still beneath him, laying in the manner of death which is most unbecoming. The sour taste of the male's blood begins to permeate his senses. Blood coats his muzzle all the way up past his jaw and down his neck, drenching his forelegs with bits and pieces of fur with skin attached as well as meat clinging to him.
He is a disgusting mess and yet he is proud and satisfied. The creature inside of him has quieted just as the creature beneath him has stilled and he slowly slides off the dead body, his paws shaky upon the earth for it was not easy to keep his grip upon the back of the male.
Does it satisfy you? The voice, the body, he is struck with memories of the foggy afternoon in which he tasted the blood of this beast.
Underidge blinks at Eden before stepping towards him, long legs dripping splatters upon the ground.
"It satisfies the god within me, the Shade, but still, he was weak. There is no place here for weakness, only death, because death is freeing, don't you think?" The words come out coarse and he clears his throat against the saliva that mingles with the thickened blood still clinging to his teeth, swallowing it down until it burns in his belly.
"Even his blood tastes old."
UNDERIDGE
TWO - MALE - NO HEART - OPHELIA'S SOUL
OF TAVIORA - ENDERLY X BANSHEE - KILL COUNT (I)