A happy gait he skipped along further, humming a jumpy tune of some sorts. His orange eyes would spy a patch of white, and he'd narrow his eyes, glaring at it like a pesky annoyance. Which it was, how couldn't it be? The lands needed to be green dang it. He could help wrinkle his nose, though it was spring there were still white banks claiming the land. He happily trotted over, and he very intentionally marked the white with yellow. He was more then ready for it to be gone, for the sun to stay longer and warm up the earth. He had helped Kinis swim and he could not wait to take Ozera. He was sure she could swim, least he hoped in her new state she would not be impaired. Maybe he could even catch a fish, had she had fish? He shrugged quietly to himself, and trotted further hunting at the pesky whiteness. Whatever reason he was happy, and it was stated in his rhythem.
A happy gait he skipped along further, humming a jumpy tune of some sorts. His orange eyes would spy a patch of white, and he'd narrow his eyes, glaring at it like a pesky annoyance. Which it was, how couldn't it be? The lands needed to be green dang it. He could help wrinkle his nose, though it was spring there were still white banks claiming the land. He happily trotted over, and he very intentionally marked the white with yellow. He was more then ready for it to be gone, for the sun to stay longer and warm up the earth. He had helped Kinis swim and he could not wait to take Ozera. He was sure she could swim, least he hoped in her new state she would not be impaired. Maybe he could even catch a fish, had she had fish? He shrugged quietly to himself, and trotted further hunting at the pesky whiteness. Whatever reason he was happy, and it was stated in his rhythem.
While there was no escaping the devil's fingers, the hellfire of this land, there was some escape from the heathens he had been forced to live with. There were times when being so close to so many so damned made it too hard for him to breath. His stomach was in constant revolt, and he was plauged by nightmares of faces who wore masks but could not hide their blackness. But that was how life was in the waking world anyway. Kiche was constantly confronted by creatures that wore faces like him, and yet... clearly, they were not of the same kind. Where this dappled ginger and cream wolf was a soul that yearned for deliverance and Pangur, he was surrounded by soulless, godless creatures who pretended that it was he who was unnatural. They smiled and feigned their innocence and benevolence, but Kiche knew they were all liars. Eventually the masks would come off, he just had to figure out when.
There.
There, before him, was another one of these masked pantomimists, these wolves in sheep's clothing. And he was... Deep wrinkles contorted Kiche's face. "Disgusting!" he spat, snarling loudly into the snow. "Vile, disgusting, awful heathens. I hope you know you're all going to hell." He meant to mumbled these phrases to himself, but somehow they managed to come out much louder in his accusatory, angry tone.</blockquote>
So the black lad with white dapple on his chest took a couple hesitant steps toward the stranger. Ears pressed to his skull out of remorse, and very confused he asked, "Uh, why em I going to hell? Em I didn't get you or anything, did I?" Black head was bowed slighty, orange eyes looking round before they steadied on the strange male.
"<b>What </b><i>is</i> <b>it with you savages?</b>" Kiche grumbled, tossing his head about in a sweeping gesture. Why was it that all of these creatures could pretend that they were so <i>innocent</i>? They always played the ignorant card. As if that would save them from damnation. "<b>You fools just don't get it, do you?</b>" Caught in the throes of rage, the massive beast took several gutsy steps towards the heathen, whom he guessed was still rather young. It was on occasions like these, in the presence of these younger hellions, that he felt a bit braver, more angry, more disappointed. They had the whole world —although, truth be told, it wasn't much— ahead of them, and they had <i>already</i> ruined everything. Disgusting.
Now towering over the lanky shadow, Kiche continued, "<b>Your very lifestyle is an affront to Pangur. You kill, you maim, you destroy, you live in absolute squalor in a desolate world practicing dark magic. You have shunned God and embraced the Devil, and you</b> <i>dare</i> <b>ask me</b> <i>why</i><b> you're going to hell?</b>" Trying to maintain some sort of control over himself, Kiche exhaled. Had he been capable, he would have blown out steam. "<b>You make me sick. Every last one of you.</b>" It was becoming harder and harder to withhold his increasingly violent thoughts, but he knew he had to. Pangur would not want him to lash out at this little shit, no matter how vile he was.
"<b>You pee on trees, for crying out loud!</b>"
</blockquote>
So with his wide ears cupped forward, his eyes wide upon the male he was in a haze. He did not know who Pangur was, nor what this killing was he'd done, or the dark magic he had participated in. He was starting to wonder if this wolf was mistaking him for someone else. Triell hadn't ever thought he'd been a bad wolf, in Lucifer's tight knit unit. He hadn't ever exactly seeked God out either. What was the boy to do? Clearly he had offended this male, but the only thing that made sense was the you make me sick! and You pee on trees, for crying out loud! The boy swallowed, more gulped never being scolded so roughly in all his life. Ears folded against the black, and he looked indirectly at the male. He hadn't thought peeing on trees was bad. He was a wolf, wolf's pee on trees didn't they? The other was a wolf, where did he pee hmm? Everyone had to pee didn't they? "Uh, I'm sorry sir. I did not mean to affront Pangur or you.. And surely I do not want to be friends with the devil, but um if I can't pee on a tree where am I suppose to?" He figured keeping it short, and not asking about all the wrong at once might be best. He didn't want to set 'im off again, but good hell he wasn't sure how not too. This wolf sounded mad out him for being a wolf, and Triell didn't know how not to be a wolf.
The young fiend was suddenly all apologies and innocence. Of course, they were <i>all</i> like that when their cruel, nasty lifestyle was revealed. They all rolled over stupidly and asked questions. Kiche was beginning to believe he was perhaps giving them too much credit by assuming they were smart enough to understand him. Perhaps they were all stupid. Perhaps he was the only intelligent creature for miles around. The thought, while slightly lonely, stoked the fire in his ego until it was a roaring inferno. He glared down at the half-wit demon child for several long moments before tossing his head in disgust, "<b>I'm dealing with a bunch of morons. For crying out loud, what a sick sense of humor you have.</b>" This was directed at the sky, at Pangur.
Whirling back to face the little cretin, Kiche grumbled, "<b>I don't know, just stop making the forest reek! It's bad enough that I'm stuck in this goddamn place, but it doesn't have to </b><i>stink</i><b>. It's gross, something Satan would want you to do.</b>" Clearly, this beast needed to have everything explained to him, since he was frighteningly ignorant. Well, at least he was young. There was plenty of unlearning for this nasty little savage to do, but maybe he could be saved.
</blockquote>
He did not give Triell the exact answer he wanted. He had wanted to know where this wolf did his business. It was clear he wasn't going to share. Triell was starting to look at this wolf with a spark of interest, and he had a feeling this wolf would not hurt him. Or if he didn't push him to a breaking point. Now he wondered what the heck did he eat? Surely not grass like the deer? Was he friends with the deer? He shuffled his feet, "Okay, I understand," he manged to say with a stronger tone. Ears swiveled up, and he met the pair of orange eyes. "Eh, is there other things?" He asked trying to grasp this new concept of thinking.
Even if the child claimed to understand, Kiche knew better. The very idea that this young pagan thought he could even <i>begin</i> to understand <i>anything</i> made him laugh. A blunt snort of derision dismissed the statement. "<b>Oh please,</b>" he snarled, rather angry suddenly that this kid had the gumption to think he understood, "<b>I don't think you'll ever understand. You're probably too far gone. If anything, this is a waste of my time.</b>" In his head, he weighed the odds, figuring that they were overwhelmingly in favor of damnation. <i>But Pangur would at least like me to try.</i> To be fair, Kiche thought he was doing a marvelous job controlling his temper, and he had, after all, been trying very hard to get through to this <i>thing</i>. Besides Aisling, he hadn't really spoken much with others.
"<b>Other things?</b>" a gust of exasperation surged from him, "<b>Yes of course there are other things! Jesus, it's not like you'd be sent to hell just for stinking up the forest —although, I can't say it helps your case.</b>" Another snort punctuated his sentence. "<b>I am, however, having a damn hard time believing you don't know about these "other things." Come on, didn't your masters ever tell you about bad people and the bad things they do? Despicable, just despicable.</b>"
</blockquote>
He stood unmoving wondering if maybe the wolf would just stomp off in digust or something. He didn't. The first thing Triell got was how there was a lot of things, things he should know, quite obviously, that were wrong. He didn't, and he did not know how to get that message to the wolf. This was all news to the young Tainn. The words people, and masters clearly had him confounded. When leaving Relic Lore he had learned what people were, but this wolf had lived with them? Holy smokes! And he was still alive?! Now he somehow thought Triell had too. Whoa... Did his head hurt or what. "Sir, I have never met people, or have had masters. I was born here, and raised by my brothers really. I...I don't know what these bad things are. This was just what I was taught by my brothers, by wolves. People um usually don't like us," the boy frowned, giving a weak wag of his tail.
"<b>Don't you see?</b>" Kiche suddenly barked loudly, "<b>That's the problem! You were raised out here in this barren, wild, hell by your brothers. And your brothers, being the godless creatures that everyone out here is, obviously tainted you.</b>" Finally, he felt as if he was actually <i>getting</i> somewhere, although it was nowhere positive. Things were starting to fall in to place in his head. Never met people, <i>well that was obvious.</i> Never had masters, <i>even more frighteningly obvious, and probably the root of this savagery.</i>
The idea that people didn't like wolves was something that Kiche didn't find particularly surprising. How <i>could</i> a human love something so vile and so feral? How could they love something who had shunned Pangur? Why, Kiche didn't even like any of these <i>wolves</i> —if that was what they called themselves— either, and for the very same reasons. "<b>Of course they don't like you. Just look at you.</b>" He flicked a creased muzzle at the young <i>wolf</i> as he looked him up and down. <i>Disgusting</i>. He jabbed at the dark fiend's chest with a paw, leaning in closer. "<b><i>Just look at you,</b></i>" he hissed.
</blockquote>