Grimoire sat silently down wind from her target, covered in the scent of the wild pines surrounding her and undetectable behind the thick woody stalks of shrubbery. Her eyes tracked the feminine features of the black wolf ripping apart the lupine prey at her paws. If one could get over the horror of it, and Grimoire could, the monstrous savagery was stunning. The vicious severing of flesh and the pure enjoyment of the meal was laced in every muscle of the young wolf. It was her first time seeing the instinctual murderous tendency of a cannibal, though her mother had told her of Tobias.

He was a king of fear and his deranged mind was intent on hunting children. He was a monster right from Grimoire’s children's stories. If not for Nakki’s loyalty to Andras all those years ago, Grimoire’s mother would have fallen under Tobias’ paws, content to be a part of one of the world's many nightmares. It was one way she differed from her mother; Nakki would follow anything that was out of a terrible tale. Grimoire was young enough that her mind wasn’t so obsessed with the images of broken, dismembered comrades that she sought to be as close to them as possible through becoming the very thing that killed them. Fury throbbed at the back of her mind, knowing a creature like this would have enslaved her mother’s mind and could have seduced Nakki away from the tenants of the Demon Code her mother advocated.

Grimoire was a wolf hunter as well, so murder was easy for her to wrap her brain around, but eating a wolf was reserved for enemies. How did one come to the conclusion they ought to defile a stranger? Was it not enough to be content with the fact that the victim failed the eternal hunt and became prey?

She felt disdain twist its painful wires through her ribcage. Her teeth unsheathed like a few dozen swords. The nightmare before her was an insult to wolf kind, serving to desensitise the masses against the true meaning behind eating a fellow wolf’s body. To watch the mindless devouring of kindred flesh was infuriating. No worries though, dear dead wolf who was being dragged away. Grimoire was watching and wondering how best to convince the delusional predator of the true chain of things.

How could she put poetry to the lesson? A gleam of an idea sparked in the darkest chambers of her mind. If one flourished off of impure food, then the removal of that source would result in a desirable effect. But such a plan would be lost on the mindless. Grimoire decided she had better check to see if the young female cannibal had reasoning ability. On light paws, Grimoire stepped out of her hiding place while her subject rolled like a happy child in the bloody aftermath of meal she’d hidden away. In a purr, Grimoire asked,

"What words have you to speak, Merry Murderer?”

They would be her last ones as a free wolf, which ever she chose. And if she didn't speak? Well, Grimoire wasn't sure what that would mean until it happened. This was a test, after all, to witness the mind of someone who ate carelessly. Anything that occurred was data to be used in the finale.