06-28-2019, 01:12 AM
//wrote this at 2 am dont hate me or my post
"You ain’t letting ‘em have a single thing, Moth."
Amber eyes akin to an owl’s glanced dispassionately towards the deuce, who brought with them an aura of revulsion - and a stench of the Pitt.
It wasn’t as if the two guests of the hour were random nobodies, however. Before the border stood a weakened Stryker, the soulless individual who allowed his underlings to slaughter as many unwary members of Tanglewood as they pleased. Tangler-killing had become the Pitt’s national sport - and Stryker took the role of head coach.
The lion made the voyage to the swamp with another, however. Next to him lingered an accomplice, she equally as battered and bruised as he. Yellow hues scrutinized her form for clues regarding her identity, but failed. No matter. Just by associating herself with the ex-ardent did she make herself as worthless as a crotcheted pisspot.
The hound had never viewed Stryker in person until the current second, so he couldn’t really say so, but the loathsome creature’s appearance was a tad off from what was told. Settled in ahead of him was not a daunting tyrant, but a pitiful worm. Seeing the oversized feline in this debilitating condition pleased the male, birthing a sick smile among his jaw.
Leroy skulked out from the thicket, his thick set of brows furrowed in undiluted abhorrence. His respiring shook with ill temper, and the breaths only grew hotter as his blood boiled on.
He was should be dead.
Momentarily cutting all attention being paid to the lioness, his heated gaze slithered unto Stryker alone.
”I’d say something cliché like 'you have some nerve to show up', but honestly, ya don’t deserve that level of interaction. Not after the shit you put us through.”
If he possessed the ability to spit, he would have. Though, even then, his expelled saliva would be of higher value than the two fatheads that he currently spoke to.
”Ya think that your li’l scars hurt? They’re nothing, not even anything on the bigger scar that ya left here. Give us a good reason not to bump you both off, or I’ll do away with the both of ya in no time flat.”
"You ain’t letting ‘em have a single thing, Moth."
Amber eyes akin to an owl’s glanced dispassionately towards the deuce, who brought with them an aura of revulsion - and a stench of the Pitt.
It wasn’t as if the two guests of the hour were random nobodies, however. Before the border stood a weakened Stryker, the soulless individual who allowed his underlings to slaughter as many unwary members of Tanglewood as they pleased. Tangler-killing had become the Pitt’s national sport - and Stryker took the role of head coach.
The lion made the voyage to the swamp with another, however. Next to him lingered an accomplice, she equally as battered and bruised as he. Yellow hues scrutinized her form for clues regarding her identity, but failed. No matter. Just by associating herself with the ex-ardent did she make herself as worthless as a crotcheted pisspot.
The hound had never viewed Stryker in person until the current second, so he couldn’t really say so, but the loathsome creature’s appearance was a tad off from what was told. Settled in ahead of him was not a daunting tyrant, but a pitiful worm. Seeing the oversized feline in this debilitating condition pleased the male, birthing a sick smile among his jaw.
Leroy skulked out from the thicket, his thick set of brows furrowed in undiluted abhorrence. His respiring shook with ill temper, and the breaths only grew hotter as his blood boiled on.
He was should be dead.
Momentarily cutting all attention being paid to the lioness, his heated gaze slithered unto Stryker alone.
”I’d say something cliché like 'you have some nerve to show up', but honestly, ya don’t deserve that level of interaction. Not after the shit you put us through.”
If he possessed the ability to spit, he would have. Though, even then, his expelled saliva would be of higher value than the two fatheads that he currently spoke to.
”Ya think that your li’l scars hurt? They’re nothing, not even anything on the bigger scar that ya left here. Give us a good reason not to bump you both off, or I’ll do away with the both of ya in no time flat.”