| The chaos and destruction had come without warning. But, he had known. He had known it would come with full fury, wiping across the lands of Beqanna like a wildfire. It would be unstoppable. Some would die. Some would live. But he would be safe. His own safety had been his only priority as he watched the chaos erupt slowly across Beqanna. Others would have called him selfish, but it simply was within his nature to be. An omen is what he had been brought to into this world, and a bringer of destruction is what he would be. There was a handful of others that had played their part as well within bringing the plague into their homeland. Sinner would not be the only one to blame for what was created. But was it not needed for their homeland? To rule out the weak and let the strongest stand up and survive? Their greed, their selfishness was not narrow-minded as many others would call it. It was a gift to humanity. In the depths of it all, there would be a reckoning. Sinner has forgotten his duties within Sylva—perhaps for a time. The hound is uncertain which way he would go from here. With the plague came opportunities, and he was willing to hunt them out before returning to wherever Arthas has taken to. Surely, he would not be missed among the chaos, or perhaps his absence would be notice. The dark hound shrugs it off though, yellow and red flicked eyes search across the horizon of the meadow. He inhales the scent of the destruction, the death that fills the air and grasps for the living. The hungry within him calls, and surely there would be something warm and hearty to devour here within the meadow as a chilly wind rolls through (welcoming winter and death). |
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Most likely always in his hellhound form