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

The painted girl backed away from Malignus to mirror his own retreat, confusion darkening her eyes and clouding her expression. Had he been another wolf, he may have pitied her but, instead, he simply voiced his mixed emotions, noting with mounting eagerness the physical appearance of his desire reflected in her own body. To vent his frustration at the situation, he launched into his assault afresh, trying to ignore her gaze boring deep inside of him, although the knowledge of it was electrifying. When he had finished and subsequently cleaned himself up, washing away at least some of the yearning that plagued him, he settled down to witness his partner at work.

She was brilliant, and before long he found himself clasping the female he had spied earlier between his forelegs, fangs embedded in her ruff as he moved with her. However, for once, his mind was not on the girl beneath him. Those eyes of pale yellow, glittering with still unsatisfied lecherousness, were pinned on the hypnotizing green orbs of Widow as she launched herself into the attack, jaws snapping shut on the tender nose of his captive, her needle teeth making short work of the cartilage. In that moment when their eyes locked, the world seemed to fade into the background. His rhythmical motions, her chewing and the screaming of their prey combining and then falling away. It was just him and her, their underhanded grins matching like a diamonds in a deck of cards, his disgust at her actions intermingling with his arousal so that his motions became more frenzied, eyes glazing over until he found himself in the throes of pleasure, Widow momentarily forgotten as he relieved himself. When it was over, his lady friend politely waited until he could remove himself of their dying inmate, her strangled groaning causing a sick churning to begin in Malignus' cowardly stomach, not that he would ever let that be known. Instead he gamely and stoically gripped her scruff and lifted her neck, rewarded by Widow's resulting happiness. He found that he enjoyed the way her beautiful eyes drank their fill of him, looking at him with a mixture of awe, need and something else he couldn't quite place. She wagged her tail, pleased at his offering, her russet lips glittering with freshly-spilled blood.

The male tried not to blanch away as the younger female attacked.

She was vicious, and he found himself never wanting to meet her in a dark ally. Even as he thought this, however, a world of possibilities opened up to him and he felt himself pull back on the dying creature, taunting his companion where before he would have released it instantly. What a deadly duo they could be, such that Moladion had never before witnessed! With their combined brains, acting skills and black hearts, as well as her fighting prowess, they could do anything, be anyone they desired. Thus, he continued to provoke her, flirting with her by engaging in the game she had started. This back-and-forth continued until the poor female finally gave up her ghost, whereupon Malignus dropped her limp form, leaving it to Widow to do with it what she would. Before she tucked in, however, she shot a question at him, her wisdom surprising him even at her tender age. Her knowing smile and arced tail caused a hot tingle to flame across his chest and he sat up, looking uncomfortable, gaze turned outward into the forest, as though ensuring none had heard their victim scream. His voice though, when it came, was a smooth and silken as ever, giving testament to years of practice, “Oh, did it now? Well, dearest one, I am that hard on every wolf I take. I usually do not kill them afterward though.” His distaste was evident as he glanced at the body before them, but he had promised he would sample carnivore meat and he supposed he should stay true to that promise.

In an effort to change the subject however, he set about doing what he did best – charming the ladies, “That was some exceptional acting out there, dear Widow, almost as good as mois. There are one or two things we could work on though, if you'll have me for your teacher?” Of course, the child had been perfect and his suggestion was simply a ploy to ensure that they would again meet up. He couldn't let such a perfect find slip through his fingers. Aware of his image, he began to groom his pale chest, tongue flattening the fur there, before he moved ever further down, until there was nowhere else on the underside of his body left for him to clean. With a charming smile, he turned his attentions back on the painted female whose company he was thoroughly enjoying and winked an eye (the one with the dark patch around it).

Very rarely did poor Malignus get to flaunt his better traits before an adoring crowd, and hell if he wasn't going to seize an opportunity when it presented itself, especially when that adoring crowd was a very coveted young lady.