:::not here for my _{confessionals:::}

The sweet flesh came away from the bone with invigorating ease, and Malignus made short work of the broken body before him, tasting the saltiness of old blood as it crusted on his tongue. His tail whipped his hocks as he savaged the carcass, entire being fully intent on filling his stomach with the putrid meat. The multi-hued male didn't even hassle to glance around while he gorged himself, for he was intoxicated by his meal. Had he bothered even once, he would have picked up the scent of another, stranger wolf who had crept up behind him and lingered in the shadows, no more than a shadow herself. As it were, Malignus was completely oblivious to his surroundings and only woke back to reality when he caught a flash of black in his peripheral vision.

Startled and protective, the male whipped around to face the other, hackles out and teeth bared. He squared his stance in order to appear larger, and his eyes took on an opaque, furious gleam so that he came across as truly savage. Only when the sweet perfume of a female hit his questing nares did he relax, tawny fur smoothing back to his spine. A slimy smile split his lips in two and he winked at the black female, a false expression of consternation twisting his features into a parody of guilt, “Oh dear, of dear. I am truly sorry, but you startled me, darling. I would never have dreamed of bearing my teeth at one such as you, had I bothered to look first. He bowed low, chest scraping the ground, and was about to bid her join him at his feast when she spoke. It was only when he heard her voice, assured and confident, that he noted her dominant stance and recognized her ranking. She was no unmarked wanderer. He inwardly sighed, realizing that he would not get anything from her without a fight, and unwilling to risk himself. After this discovery, he swiftly wiped the slimy smirk off his features and replaced it with a reverence that would have put the pope to shame. After all, if he could get in with an alpha or beta, he may just be able to worm himself into a position suited to his unique gifts. Feeling more secure in the role fate had prescribed him, he went over her words in his head, conjuring up an appropriate reply, “I find aging stake has a more mature flavor than fresh, although each possess its own merits, Why, darling, are you offering? If not, you're more than welcome to take a few bites of my stash.”

There it was again, the briefest flash of a sickening grin that faded back to an expression so sincere it could fool the most battle-ready brujo. There could be no doubt that Malignus, for all his snake-like mannerisms, was unsurpassed at his craft. An artisan, an actor – the type who could sell snow to an Eskimo.

He blinked those two, sickly yellow eyes slowly, regarding the black female before him with the same masked desire he held when observing any specimen of the opposite sex. A pity she did not offer herself for his pleasure. He only hoped that their meeting would be worthwhile in some other way, and not a complete waste of his time.

OOC: sorry, had a muse dip. I know it's short and sucky, but I will improve it x