This vile creature before him dissolved into a shouting, insulting, aggressive mess before his eyes, only proving his point. That she called him a heathen was of little concern to him. Such a thing had happened to him many times before, and in his ignorance and blind anger, he had always shrugged it aside as a unimaginative, baseless retaliation. He could never be a heathen. He was above them all, above everything, because he had known the love of God, he had known the love of the humans. Enmity shut off the lights in his brain. Empathy, sympathy, and a desire to understand and accept were extinguished in a second as Kiche began his way down the slippery slope of remission. A darkness fell over his eyes like a blindfold as he began to lose touch with the reality he had come to know, and it began to confuse him.

"Back the fuck up." he snarled. More than anything, he just wanted her to shut up and go away. Kiche didn't want anything more to do with these stupid savages. Their barbaric, violent ignorance frustrated him beyond words. Lowering his head, his copper ears pinned back against his sunset head, he peeled back his lips in a scornful snarl. And then he lunged, diving at her shoulder.

The savage crumpled like a ragdoll as his teeth bit sharply into her shoulder, however, she did not appear defeated. Her effervescent laughter and the gleeful undertones of her babbling confirmed everything that Kiche had ever believed but never truly found evidence of: heathens were violent adrenaline junkies, who loved pain, knew nothing of souls, knew nothing of God, and found joy in their own insanity. These aspects of heathen life having been finally confirmed, he easily overlooked her insinuations. After everything she said, it was very clear to him that, being so out of touch with reality, she was incapable of judging anyone as insane. While he did not allow her to goad him into attacking her again, he did realize, with a sinking disappointment, that he had already given into her. By fueling her barbaric hunger for pain, suffering, and Satan, he had given her exactly what she wanted.

Disappointed and dirty, Kiche longed to get away from the cloying insanity of the black, bloody heathen rolling on the ground. Already his soul began to itch and squirm as it was claimed by a sense of uncleanliness, of godlessness. Soul. He was not surprised that she did not know what a soul was. Only barely condescending from his heavenly cloud to answer, Kiche answered with a scornful, cryptic drawl, "If you don't know by now, it's already too late." A small simper creased his face as he turned away from the filthy heathen on the ground and walked away.

I'm going to pull Kiche out now, since I've got a lot of threads lined up though. I had a lot of fun though, and we will definitely need to thread again some time. Not enough wolves bring out his dark side anymore :c !

I suppose you'll post one more time and we'll call it closed? Would you consider this "fight" a draw? or Did Kiche "win"<3