(This is Whisper's corpse, permission given to my friend. Note, no one will have seen Vagabond kill her and will only come across the mangled corpse with a little bit of Roseblood scent on it. Also, their corpse had its flesh removed from its skull, but was otherwise untouched other than the wounds gained during battle. This is Vagabond's calling card)

It was bound to happen. There was no hiding that with his track record even as a human, that no one was going to be able to get away with him without getting seriously injured or killed. Vagabond didn't believe in the idea of loose ends unless he was using them for his own pleasure and would then keep them alive if it benefited him. Right now, he didn't even know what world he was in and how he had gotten here. He had a couple ideas of what he was going to end up doing, and the Hellhound wanted to make others know that he was around and that he was a threat not to be messed with. The issue that was with him though, was the fact that he didn't know the extent of this world, and that there were plenty of things that were more threatening than him. That there were magical beasts that could tear him in half if he gave them the chance, but without having seen anything like that, it just meant that he was going to do whatever he wanted until something bad happened. It was how the gang he used to be in work with, was that they would cause chaos not knowing who they were going against, only for it to kick them in the ass later. But, that's what made it more fun and made it more interesting for Vagabond to be a part of. Everyone in the crew had been spontaneous and did whatever they wanted at the time. Whether that meant they were going to go out and steal or work with someone to protect them for a payment. As long as they got paid and got something from it, they usually did it. There were some jobs that they wouldn't take, but those instances were quite rare. Since he had arrived in this place, he had only come across another group in the area, and he had no idea that there were other groups.

Being a former human meant that he knew nothing about being an animal or anything about animals. He knew about gang territories, but he had no idea that animals were capable of setting up their own territory and actually be somewhat organized. Or talk for that matter. That had certainly been a shock for him in the beginning, but having seen plenty of strange things and crazy events, he was quick to grow used to the aspect of it. The Hellhound needed to make a name for himself, and he couldn't rely on scents to help him thanks to the metal mask that he wore across his face, taking the shape of an elongated human skull. He wasn't the type to be messed with, especially in such a large body as he was much bigger than that of a dog. He was around 6ft tall and had some scale plating on his back for protection. He had to admit that the body was indeed interesting to him. Sadly, someone had to end up crossing his path. One that probably didn't deserve to die. Vagabond didn't know her name as there was no need to exchange names when one was about to be a corpse in just a couple of minutes. A black wolf that was covered in scars and had four eyes in her skull. He had to admit, the female had put up a little bit of a fight that he wasn't expected. She didn't really seem all that afraid of him and fought for her life, giving him a couple knicks on his body, while at the same time ripping out a couple of his own claws. The canine had managed to scratch portions of his mask with her claws, but there wasn't really all that much damage. When he killed someone, he usually didn't celebrate all that much. It was almost therapeutic for him in some sense of the world after having done it for so many years now. Vagabond looked at the corpse that was on the ground in front of him, a knife sticking out of the side of the female's neck.

He raised one of his black paws and spit out a small bit of blood from when he had bit into his cheek when she stroked him in the face earlier. He lowered the mask around his face, and his two tails moved independently from each other. He wasn't done yet. He used his paw to extract the knife that was inside of the female's neck. He didn't know her name. He didn't know where she belonged. But, Whisper was dead, whoever knew her may never even know about her passing either. The Hellhound carved up the corpse, which would eventually start being his calling card. Carefully lifting his mask again, he grabbed the knife in his mouth and began to cut along the flesh on the female's face. Using the knife to pluck out her eyes and throw them off into the distance of the swamp. The flesh was peeled away to reveal a blood-covered skull of a wolf, one that had four holes for the four eyes that had once been attached to her head. He wasn't going to completely maim the body, but instead just peel the flesh away from the head to leave only the skull visible. His chest was slightly covered in blood as he cleaned his knife off on his arm. He had to keep his equipment clean because he didn't know the next time he would be able to get some. Standing up, he put his mask down across his muzzle and began to walk away from the scene. Leaving the corpse behind for whoever would come across it. A faint smell of Rosebloods left in the area. But did he know that these groups were allies? Of course not. He had only been around the group for a couple hours up to this point.