11-14-2018, 11:38 PM
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No one was never truly alone. At least not within Sylva. The hound moves through the autumn kingdom, covered in a light coat of the bitter winter. A thick coat of black fur wraps it around the hellhound, but the weight of it does not drag him down. He moves agilely across the autumn forest, each paw placed perfectly against the soft snow. Not even the crunching of pine needles and leaves are heard as he navigates through the tree trunks. Within the air, the dark beast can smell the unfamiliar scents. He is drawn to the sources of the scent, like a hound that thirsts for the hunt. Begging for the thrill and challenge of the chase that always comes from it. The rush of the adrenaline pumping, filling the very core of him. Giving him life. A purpose. Hunt. Kill. Eat. Chaos. These were his purposes. As he prowls forward, he can hear the voice within the distance. The smell of two other males tells him that these are the only ones nearby. A wolfish grin spreads across his jawline, and his eyes light up with mischief. The older stallion was correct, Sinner would not disagree with that. However, he did not know that the ruling monster of the autumn forest was just around the corner. “Intruders are never safe, at least not within Sylva,” he says firmly, stepping out to reveal his presence to the young colt and buckskin stallion. The hound moves gracefully forward. A hint of arrogance is obvious in every step he takes. He wears his newfound power freely, an invisible crown held high above on his head is indicated by the way he holds himself in front of them. Sinner considers each of the strangers for a moment. He circles around them, not guarding himself because he found no reason not to. This was his land, his kingdom, his home. They were the ones intruding. “What are you both doing here?” He asks flatly, stopping near the young colt. Sinner reaches out his snout towards the colt, taking a deep inhale of the boy’s scent and revealing his sharp teeth with a wider grin than he had before. |
| angels banished from heaven have no choice but to become devils |
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Most likely always in his hellhound form