Ah—

Into flesh sank his teeth, like it was butter, like there was no resistance at all. Satisfying warmth welled up from the puncture wounds Slimtail has made. Blood. Yes, blood, the kiss of fate, the seal of death. This one will die soon, he could sense it, as if there was a message in the Gods flowing through this scarlet stream gushing from under his fangs. I am the prophet of death, he felt with an unshakable certainty, I am the vessel of the Gods. I carry their words. I am the paw of the Gods, I am the power of Gods. Yes. This felt right. His body felt alive with the truth, humming and resonating with purpose.

It didn't matter so much that the heathen tore away from his grasp, that he was trying to run away. The Gods had already spoken their piece: he was a dead man walking. A deep smile creased his bloody lips. Flee. Go forth and be fruitful.

“You have done so well Slimtail...”

Suddenly the ragged man went rigid. He did not need to turn to look. He knew that voice. Oh, he knew and he loved that voice. The voice of his true leader, the one and only love of his life, his lord. A gasp, a sob wracked the body of Slimtail. "Truly?" he said, his voice tight with emotion. "Truly and I done well?" That was all he had ever wanted, to be loved, to be accepted, to do right by his master. He cried in earnest now, falling to the ground and letting the relief wash over him like a torrential rainstorm. It was over now... he could rest now...

“But we can’t let him get away yet. No. He may be of use to us...”

Slimtail's cries ceased suddenly, and he felt the heavy yoke of mortality and obligation fall back upon his shoulders. Oh, he was so tired. He wasn't sure how much he had left in him. He was just so tired. But if this was what Blackcrow and his Gods wanted of him, well, then he would have to do it. He could not disappoint them. Slowly he climbed back to his feet. Though he voiced no complain his whole body screamed that it was tired, that he just wanted to be done. "Of course, Blackcrow... Let's go find him."

And as the wolf with the rat tail set off once more in the wake of Kanosak, he could feel that someone was watching him, but he mistook it for Blackcrow or one of the Gods who was ever at his back. He could have had no idea that it was a poor, terrified wolf from the Willows who had witness all of the terrible things he had just done.