His form was stretched idly across the shelf of rock, tucked just far enough out of the elements to have kept it from being blanketed in snow like much of the crags. Teal eyes striated with green peered out at his surroundings as he methodically worked his tongue over his forelegs and paws. The act of grooming was a dull endeavor, and often fruitless, but there was some deeply ingrained need that occasionally surfaced in his mind to keep the white of his body pristinely so. He could not recall what it was that drove him to do so, but the memory of a masked face and a chastising voice often accompanied the need. And so he continued to work at the tawny crimson marks that stained his snow white limbs, remnants of the last victim he had claimed to satisfy his unusual appetite.

Twin white audits flicked back and forth as he listened to his surroundings, his back to a wall of rock so that he had a wide view of any possible access to the ledge where he laid. His pink tongue extended from his coal black maw with each cleansing swipe he made over his limbs and paws, finally cleaning away a particularly stubborn stain. But there were still more to go, and Reaver grunted with frustration, nostrils flaring as he twisted his head to look down at the frozen pond a few tiers below him. Typically he would have just found a water source to clean himself in, but the many shallow pools of the crags were frozen solid, and with a full stomach he had no desire to travel to the river or deep into the bowels of the grotto to find open water to make his job easier.

So he returned to his task, washing away the stains of the wolf he'd consumed, and tasting little remnants of his meal in each swipe over his limbs that was made.


Reaver

TEN - 42 IN/216 LBS - LONER