<Cross-posted from The Scathachian Sanctuary>
"The jungle creed is that the strongest feed upon whatever prey it can, and I was branded beast, at every feast, before I was ever called a man."
It was time to do much more here. Rhydin had proven itself to be a fertile hunting ground, filled with tasty morsels and some potentially reliable and influential friends. Deliciously curved, murderously dark friends actually.
As the tall figure wandered through the black night, he certainly did so with the atmosphere of fun attached to it. Sure did! These were times to be relished, plucked, and enjoyed. What, in fact, could be more primal and ?good? in this chaotic out of sorts universe than finding and eating a robust, hearty meal?! The answer to that friends: Nothing.
Hmmmm. Most interesting. This first "couple" he happened upon was not even a couple at all. Wrestling and eagerly frolicking in a small clearing in the woods, there was a quartet of well toned females. A naturist coven perhaps? Witches? A little sect of gregarious, young women indulging in the forbidden fruits of carnal pleasures? Who cares, really? They were sensuous and gorgeous in their scandalously playful mannerisms. Hah! The short one had a rapidly firing tongue that simply would not quit.
Long, dark and flaxen tresses of wild hair intertwined as they occupied one another in the blissful passions of raw ecstasy. Brunettes melted like warm butter, blondes had such a penchant for buggery, and redheads...well, an entirely different tale.
As these women licked and sucked at each other's firm and succulent skin, The Man in Black just could not bring himself to tear their luscious flesh to ribbons. Nah! Let them continue in their sinful debauchery to further entertain the rovers of nighttime like he. Every theatre needed its set dressings and this is one thrilling show that he would be back to view on future moonlit eves. Count on it.
After watching them unite with one another in their conventionally immoral pleasures for a solid twenty minutes, Gregory Fairfax lowered his sinister black fedora and slowly moved on. He was undeniably growing more hungry.
As he continued to stalk forward upon black boots, the ground beneath him crunched ever so slightly. Outlying animals, sensing a looming predator about, swiftly fled away in an instinctual fear of him with each deliberate step that he took. Hah! It was good to be the king!
Well, well, well, what is this? Another pair of piggies out and about on this clear night? Yes. This next pair he happened upon were romancing each other next to an enthusiastic, yet quaint, babbling stream. By their smells and languid faces, these two wanted to jump into "their work? as soon as possible. Yes, all things considered, they would do nicely. Furthermore, these two seemingly possessed some of the old favorite, if not traditional, checkpoints:
Check 1: This couple was a man and a woman.
Check 2: One of them had a certain style while the other was of perhaps more socially introverted means.
Check 3: They had been married for some time, at least their whispered dialogue of familiarity and lackluster wedding rings would suggest so.
Check 4: He could have sworn that they had made a particular mention of their ?children? before getting started with intercourse.
Out for a romp in the wilderness, away from the snooping eyes of the nosey offspring perhaps? Children...the ravenous Garou just loved children. Before this gory romp was over, he would assuredly pry that essential bit of information out of the mouths of these cavorting piggies. Because, if there were indeed little ones abound, then he would definitely then pay those "Red Riding Hoods" a little visit back at their home before retiring for the evening with a very full stomach.
A rather toothy sneer spread across his alabaster white face as he entertained the idea of their bloody little handprints ghoulishly adorning the walls of their lonely, insignificant abode. After all, Gregory Fairfax was always taught by his insane, albeit intelligent, mother that it showed very poor manners not to finish EVERYTHING on one's plate before leaving from the dinner table. Very poor manners.
"The jungle creed is that the strongest feed upon whatever prey it can, and I was branded beast, at every feast, before I was ever called a man."
It was time to do much more here. Rhydin had proven itself to be a fertile hunting ground, filled with tasty morsels and some potentially reliable and influential friends. Deliciously curved, murderously dark friends actually.
As the tall figure wandered through the black night, he certainly did so with the atmosphere of fun attached to it. Sure did! These were times to be relished, plucked, and enjoyed. What, in fact, could be more primal and ?good? in this chaotic out of sorts universe than finding and eating a robust, hearty meal?! The answer to that friends: Nothing.
Hmmmm. Most interesting. This first "couple" he happened upon was not even a couple at all. Wrestling and eagerly frolicking in a small clearing in the woods, there was a quartet of well toned females. A naturist coven perhaps? Witches? A little sect of gregarious, young women indulging in the forbidden fruits of carnal pleasures? Who cares, really? They were sensuous and gorgeous in their scandalously playful mannerisms. Hah! The short one had a rapidly firing tongue that simply would not quit.
Long, dark and flaxen tresses of wild hair intertwined as they occupied one another in the blissful passions of raw ecstasy. Brunettes melted like warm butter, blondes had such a penchant for buggery, and redheads...well, an entirely different tale.
As these women licked and sucked at each other's firm and succulent skin, The Man in Black just could not bring himself to tear their luscious flesh to ribbons. Nah! Let them continue in their sinful debauchery to further entertain the rovers of nighttime like he. Every theatre needed its set dressings and this is one thrilling show that he would be back to view on future moonlit eves. Count on it.
After watching them unite with one another in their conventionally immoral pleasures for a solid twenty minutes, Gregory Fairfax lowered his sinister black fedora and slowly moved on. He was undeniably growing more hungry.
As he continued to stalk forward upon black boots, the ground beneath him crunched ever so slightly. Outlying animals, sensing a looming predator about, swiftly fled away in an instinctual fear of him with each deliberate step that he took. Hah! It was good to be the king!
Well, well, well, what is this? Another pair of piggies out and about on this clear night? Yes. This next pair he happened upon were romancing each other next to an enthusiastic, yet quaint, babbling stream. By their smells and languid faces, these two wanted to jump into "their work? as soon as possible. Yes, all things considered, they would do nicely. Furthermore, these two seemingly possessed some of the old favorite, if not traditional, checkpoints:
Check 1: This couple was a man and a woman.
Check 2: One of them had a certain style while the other was of perhaps more socially introverted means.
Check 3: They had been married for some time, at least their whispered dialogue of familiarity and lackluster wedding rings would suggest so.
Check 4: He could have sworn that they had made a particular mention of their ?children? before getting started with intercourse.
Out for a romp in the wilderness, away from the snooping eyes of the nosey offspring perhaps? Children...the ravenous Garou just loved children. Before this gory romp was over, he would assuredly pry that essential bit of information out of the mouths of these cavorting piggies. Because, if there were indeed little ones abound, then he would definitely then pay those "Red Riding Hoods" a little visit back at their home before retiring for the evening with a very full stomach.
A rather toothy sneer spread across his alabaster white face as he entertained the idea of their bloody little handprints ghoulishly adorning the walls of their lonely, insignificant abode. After all, Gregory Fairfax was always taught by his insane, albeit intelligent, mother that it showed very poor manners not to finish EVERYTHING on one's plate before leaving from the dinner table. Very poor manners.