Perseverance;; Luna + Open.

[Murder]

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[atrb=background,http://i31.tinypic.com/161x368.png] And what had brought the demon here? A soft thunk, thunk, thunk echoed along the winding path that gently caressed the barrier of maples. The sound was carried beyond the peppered trunks, dancing with the gentle wind that whisked the sweet scent of snow over the untouched hills. White cloaked everything and chilled the landscape, a serene horizon that was blessed with the falling crystal. And yet, the beauty was tarnished by the presence of something foul. The aura, the stench, the paw prints left in the snow.. All of it could only lead to one culprit, and that was the Reaper himself. The burly wolf that's purpose in life was destroy the fragility of things and steal the souls of the guilty and the innocent alike. And right at this moment, he was intending to do so, slowly making his way to a creature who had fulfilled it's wretched purpose in life, and now needed to be disposed of. Thunk, thunk, thunk. The bark emanated solid response to curled horns that were brought down upon it, a steady rocking of the beast's cranium. His forehead brushed the tree, his heavy skull slowly sliding left and right, boxing the slender limb with the insides of his filthy appendages. Recently, he had grown an obsession to keeping close to his lands. Kaza'Rhun was his kingdom, and he, the king. And being away from his territory made him anxious to return. Not because he didn't trust the cavern to Vas, his accomplice, but because he felt like he had no where to go when he was away from the ocean's rapture. And those insolent creatures would muddle up the sands of Radaris with their filthy paws. Murder's lips curled back in a rumbling grimace as he kept nuzzling his forehead against the maple. His temples were throbbing with the need to find his kill, and yet, he still found it in himself to take his sweet, god damn time. There was no rush. The creature he sought after was still young, and very unaware of the impending doom. It would not die before he reached it and claimed it's life with his own jaws. And yet, the damned still whispered his duties sharply in to his frayed funnels, giving him no peace as he irritably hiked away from his home. Two days. It had been just over forty-eight hours since he had departed without so much as a goodbye. Forty-eight hours of listening to all this bullshit. A deafening sound thrummed up from his vocal cords, bubbling in the depths of his throat before it spilled out between his flawless ivories. The teeth themselves had once been a brilliant white, but now chipped and well over used, contained small chips and the burgundy stain of his victim's blood. It would never disappear, as long as he walked this earth, in this body. He would forever be feared as the bringer of death. And honestly? He still regretted nothing. Nothing but the guides that lingered between Hell and Earth. These tainted souls that followed in his wake, an array of voices constantly reminding him whose blood he was after. It irked him that they thought him foolish enough to forget. As soon as he was given a name, it lay imprinted inside his skull until he could wash it away with the blood of that individual. As his anger brewed, fueling the very vessels that pumped through his veins, the colossal beast took a few tense steps away from the tree he had been buffing with his scalp, running his eyes over the little grooves his horns had created. How dare this insignificant life form, this plant, not provide him with a little peace and sanity! Was there nothing on this Earth that could stop the constant throbbing in the depths of his twisted mind? The Reaper had worked himself in to a frustrated rage, and all at once, the mighty creature reared up on it's hid legs, paws the size of dinner plates layered with indestructible talons. Spittle flew from his lips, a luminescent, elongated tongue whipping the air as it curled just before the threatening rows of teeth. More like a bear on his hinds, tall, thick and menacing, Murder threw all his weight at that one trunk, his pads smacking against the surface with an audible crack. All six-hundred pounds of the wolf slammed in to the tree, which compared to his seven feet (when all four paws), was more so a twig than anything. It snapped, the noise ripping through it's base slowly until the damn thing finally fell backwards, tumbling between it's brethren to finally rest upon the damn, slushy floor. Murder dropped back to his paws, his chest heaving with the effort his anger had dealt on his lungs, watching as the entire forest rattled and shook with the impact. The slits in the center of his eyes shrunk, the light reflecting off the eerie colors as the sun slowly fell beyond the mountains. He felt better now. The voices had abruptly stopped thanks to the blood pulsing in his ears. Better, but not perfect. The beast turned, his weight crushing the snow beneath his paws, leaving a squelching noise as he heft them back up and started to tread down the path that had been left untouched. He was slacking as it was. It was time to get his ass in gear, though silently, as if hiding it from himself, he prayed for a distraction or two to persevere his procrastination. "SPEECH SPEECH SPEECH"

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