Life bled from the skinny loner’s eyes with his final exhale. Synchronously, a content sigh relaxed the demon’s jaw and the wolf’s neck slumped to the ground. Grimoire hummed while she breathed in, lifting her head to the heavens and closing her eyes in holy worship. The failure’s blood ran down her ebony throat and dripped from the hairs at the bottom of her chest onto the autumn leaves. For the terrestrial force, Gaia, Grimoire versed,

”From nature do we cleanse this mortal name.
Weak Wolf we send to his eternal grave;
Ne’er to proliferate his shame.”

Half a year it had been since she’d honored her binds as a Demon Priestess. Her mouth salivated at the secular thought of indulging her devotion to her heritage. She lowered her fangs to her skin and ripped back the fur to expose the muscle of his shoulder. He would not decay to poison the soil with his weakness; he would be devoured and his blight entirely removed from earth. She severed a long piece of stringy meat from his body and sucked it down. The meat was tasteless and full of gristle, but Grimoire wouldn’t allow the grisly meat to deter her purpose. Down, down the meat would go. Though… she really wouldn’t have objected to some help with it. Weak Wolf’s gangly flesh was difficult to pull from his bones; and while she was euphoric to be enacting the teachings of her faith, it was difficult to stomach… especially since she was assuming she’d have to finish the carcass all on her own. It would be hours until she cleaned his skeleton.