Aplos Riverside
Moladion’s powerful, winding river...
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I am Bandit. Ah, the sweet release of control from Mags was only second to the delicious hold he was able to take almost immediately on the reins the minute she lest consciousness. Poor little dove, always hyperventilating and putting herself at risk when something was needed of her. She really was so fragile most of the time. It was almost sickening, if she wasn't the pure innocence that he sought in so many little female pups before her. She was exactly what he wanted in his victims and yet he was stuck with her forever. He couldn't lock her up in a secret den and punish her as he was she she needed. It would probably give her some much needed confidence, maybe in a twisted way, but confidence, none the less. And yet she was chained to him along with the others and so he couldn't have his fun. It was a pity but he worked with what he had. He knew the young female with them was irritated constantly by the weak minded and yet she didn't want a challenge, just as Diesel pointed out. She wanted a follower but someone who could make quick decisions. He was certainly no follower but if a fellow hunter was what she wanted, he was one of the top contenders for the spot. Sure, Diesel was good at hunting too but it wasn't like he was that good at taking the reins when Bandit wanted it too. Even Orb himself wasn't so bad at hunting though no one could match the bloodlust of Bandit. He was almost frightening in his hunting mode. He had no care for mercy or life and he didn't mind tormenting his prey before he gave them death. It was too muh fun to watch them suffer. Maybe the irritated female felt the same. He would find out soon enough. As the female was watching the herd, she seemed stuck between going after them or turning on this body. She must have cannibal tendencies as well. Bandit himself had never taken from a wolf when it came to food but he could understand the urge. Somehow it seemed too polite to him to eat from someone, like you were releasing their soul from their tomb of a corpse to meet the afterlife. No, he wasn't that nice. He wanted your soul to rot right along with your carcass and laugh as vultures picked at the leftovers. He laid on the ground after Mags collapsed for a few moments, regaining his bearings. They all seemed to have that disoriented lost feeling when first they took the control and he was no different. He heard her voice over him, telling him to get up or she would eat him and his first action was to chuckle under his breath and give her a sneer, even before he opened his eyes to look up at her. "YOU DON'T WANT NONE OF THIS, SWEETHEART. TOO SWEET FOR YOUR TASTE, I PROMISE YOU." Then he gave her a wink before he rolled back to his feet, sure she was close to being at the end of her rope. He wagged his tail and glanced toward the herd, sniffing the air and licking his lips at the thought of sinking his teeth into the tender flesh of a yearling or something like that. Maybe they could even take down an injured or weak doe or something, maybe even a pregnant one in this season. They would be slowed down anyway with the added weight. Mmm, he could taste it now. His gaze turned back to her, one brow raised. "WE GONNA DO THIS TODAY? I THOUGHT WE WERE HUNTING. COME ON NOW, DON'T FALL BEHIND." He dared to brush himself against her as he moved off, crouching low to keep himself hidden as he stuck to the shade of the trees and the bushes to conceal himself from the herd. He made sure to get downwind of them so they wouldn't pick up on his scent, moving to a good vantage point before he looked to see where she would position herself. Would she run them at him or would she want him to do the herding? He didn't mind either way, as long as she prepared to take a good bite. He was actually rather hungry, starving, actually. Stupid Mags and her anti-hunting gene. It's a miracle they survived this long with her around. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Confused? See my Info Page |