EYES BLACK, BIG PAWS -- hellhound. wandering servant.

The end of summertime always brought a sense of wariness, as if wary of the winter that often brought death with it. For the bodyguard, this very thing was of concern, for his job was to keep the living, alive. Such concerns had him out and about, released from his duties for the day, to seek some kind of peace for himself. He wandered the palace halls like some silent ghost, servants giving him wide berths as The Undertaker trod on, heading for nowhere in particular.

The promise of a drink at the tavern was tempting, as was a certain area of the city, but the guard could feel the heaviness of a thunderstorm in the air, wary of the brewing pressure ready to break at any time. He didn't want to be caught out in the rain he knew would be coming at any one specific time, but he couldn't stop his feet from dragging him to the impressive floral gardens of the passed on princess, the location where the building that the harem members lived within, also a place that he called home most nights. His service to the Kings and Queens of Hell required for him to be close, and there was nothing quite as close as a concubine. Though his job did not have the same requirements of those who lived there, it was the perfect cover for him to stay by his Master's side. It allowed him the protection to hide his own skills in plain sight, the sword and shield of the ruling party.

He'd obtained many scars in his duty, though most laid hidden under his thick mane, there were few that remained in sight, though he often changed his body to hide them with his ability to shapeshift, hiding the possible weaknesses from the sight of aggressors. His role as the bodyguard for the royal in power also extended to their brood, leaving him with few days off between bodyguard and babysitter. Any moment of peace was heavenly to the overworked soul, though he never said a word of any of this. He'd been alive for generations, keeping guard of the royal family, creating tight bonds with most members.

Weary paws carried the towering hellhound through the winding paths of the garden, listening to the quiet voices of the harem members, nodding to them kindly as he passed them by, ignoring most of their conversations out of habit. Most of the talk was menial things that pretty birds kept in iron cages talked of, talk that meant little to the hawk kept on a silver chain, fed only when starved. Yet, he was loyal, fervently so, fiercely so. Why? There was an attachment, wrong as it was, to the one known as The Mad King, the one who ruled hell in this generation.

Lifting his head as lightning curtained the sky, the tense cord of the air releasing with a loud snap!, sending the harem members screaming indoors and leaving the big hellhound to stand on his own with a weary breath. Dropping his head, barking out into the fields to the children he could hear scurrying and screaming as they tried to find their mothers and shelter as rain began to slowly but steadily pour in a cascade, "Come here children!", he would grit his teeth momentarily as he forced his body to change shape, two pairs of wings sprouting on his back and spreading out to cover an impressive width, a shelter for the frightened children of the harem.

[align=center]"speech" .. 'thoughts' .. attack