:::not here for my confessionals:::
The air was full of the heady scents of a fast approaching winter and Malignus' blood was up. If he was usually considered a monster, then in the cold months he became a dragon, breath steaming in the pale morning sun. The ground was covered by a thin layer of frost, but it didn't deter the male from rising as the sun capped the horizon, beginning his day with the evillest of intentions. He did not wish to miss a single opportunity and, if that meant waking early and sleeping late, the fact didn't bother the male. In fact it excited him, and his den was littered with clods of soil and stones sent flying with the motion of his legs while he dreamed, the smile on his face hinting at the pleasure he was receiving.
During his travels, he had made many of his dreams come true, although his luck had seemed to have fallen a bit flat as of late. The last female he had plundered had been at least a month before and, due to this, he was uncomfortable and ravenous. His sickly, yellow eyes scoured his surroundings, taking in every lip of rock in the hopes of spotting a wolf worth his time, and he moved with a purpose unsurpassed. Many would have been disgusted by him, sensing the hideous creature lurking beneath his rather uniquely coloured pelt, but it didn't bother him. As long as he caught sight of his prey in time, he would masterfully transform himself into something desirable. Every now and again, a pretty lady offered herself up willingly, and he found in these cases that he was obliged to stimulate her as well as himself. For this reason, he preferred rape, for it meant he could satisfy his lust without a thought given to the woman he straddled.
He grinned as he loped through Susil, aware that he was amongst the lowest of the low, and feeling no remorse. Life was short and savage, and if one could ride through it with a primal lecherousness, then its bedlam could be forgotten. Malignus had learnt this the hard way, having been an omega's son and at the bottom of the pecking order. Throughout his young life he had been bullied and bitten, destined to be a kick around toy for others to enjoy, and this fact just did not sit well with him. In the end he had taken the daughter of the alpha, hoping her status would be given to him if he became her mate. Unfortunately, it had not quite worked out that way and he had been banished for his efforts. Giving up on pack life, he had transformed from a caterpillar into a butterfly, taking on the role of loner as though he had been born to it.
As the sun rose ever higher, the male began to grow weary and ever more frustrated. He paused at one of the small pools scattered throughout the rocky landscape to wet his parched throat, attempting to cool the burning sensation that ate him up from the inside. His reflection looked back at him from the clear water, grim and primal, and he let his muscles relax into an easy, neutral mask, lest an unlucky stranger happen upon him while he drank.
male/no mate/no pack/imprintless/four years/father of none