The Reaper laughed, a sound so grating, so abrasive that even the wind seemed to be still in its wake.
Filit kekalhe spat, as those hollowed out eyes bored holes into the golden depths of the wolf.
I am not blind, but you will be.Dre Klage purred through a cracking smile, sludge of various globs dripping down his maw with a hideous hiss.
His laughter is a repulsive sound as the Dre Klage steps forward, toying with the pair of wolves as if he were the cat and they were the vulnerable mice. Their fate is sealed, he knows, no matter if he gets them now or later. The Plague always finishes what it’s started.
A foolish sacrifice,he rumbles through a sickening grin,
but it will do.
He cranes his head out of the way of snapping teeth, though he knows it will do nothing beyond carry along a cunning ruse. Dre Klage cannot be hurt; his body is not made of the same fragilities bound to mortal blood.
But they don’t know that, and for that reason alone, he smiles. Just as his hollow stare turns toward the snarling female, the one the male had tried to save. How comical it was to see how willing mortals were to sacrifice their lives in the name of righteousness.
Though Dre Klage was growing bored, this game of cat and mouse was drawing out longer than he had wanted. And what better way to excite him than to change up the rules?
The Plague wasted no time in turning its sights on the mottled color female, as its jaws opened wide and aimed to snap in her direction.
