there is but one rule
hunt or be hunted
hunt or be hunted
| He did not fear the darkness or the monsters that lurked within them. There was nothing to fear when he was a monster made by monsters itself. With hellfire and smoke, they had sewn him together piece by piece, craving every angle of him—their most precious masterpiece they had called him. A masterpiece they had created only for one thing—an omen to his father. But they had also ingrained within him to be an obedient servant. A chained and bound as a slave to the darkness. He had searched endlessly from Beqanna to empty lands to find a worthy master of darkness. There had never been one. Perhaps there was no one worthy he found to bound himself to, or maybe he was always meant to break away from his chains. The hellhound was always meant for greater things. Living an immortal life as a servant was beyond the skills he was equipped with. He was always meant to be a master of his own—not the minion of the hellions that created him. “I’d like to see you try and burn it all then,” he says with a flick of his tail as a smirk remains on his lips and Ophanim finds humor in his idle threats. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you did try. After all, you seem rather fond of many malicious things.” Sinner carefully considers Ophanim for a moment. but his expression does not flicker. Sinner doesn’t miss the way the dragon-horse’s eyes sparkle with hunger. It was the same hunger he felt when he wanted flesh and bone. The madness it drove within him was at sometimes unbearable. Sometimes he could not completely control his hunger—even now it has grown far wilder. Without hunting constantly, he could end up killing anyone. Ophanim is rather found of giving threats to the hound. Perhaps trying to find something to trigger him and make him on edge, but Sinner is not easily given in by how many threats are spit out. “Loess will be nothing when I am done with it,” he says as Ophanim decides to play with his little special abilities. “One more outburst of your flames and I’ll make sure you’ll be the one burning instead.” At the mention of Castile, he licks his teeth. The image of battle Castile losing comes to his mind easily. “I doubt you will have the chance to ever be anything,” he replies, his wolfish smirk grows wider across his dark canine head, revealing his sharp teeth. “At least I’ll make sure you are my prisoner forever.” He can already see it now—Ophanim chained up to one of these boulders within Sylva. “We will have so much fun!” He laughs softly. |
Sinner
the king of sylva
@[Ophanim]
Profile | Detailed Bio | Character Reference
Most likely always in his hellhound form