She swirls and sings - any

[Sinner]

The remaining shadows of the night and forest conceal him, but the scent of him sticks out like a sore thumb. He had never planned on being noticed—only curiosity brought him to a standstill. The grey lavender alone—fragile and easy to prey on—is something he considered too easy. At first he thought of her to be a simple trap, but she is not. There is something the way she holds herself together—something that pieces her together he finds innocent and naïve. He is so drawn to the warm-hearted of those who reek of innocence. Something within him, an innate sense, to corrupt and destroy those who live a life full of love and virtue. But the world is not always kind in that way—there are scars evident or buried beneath that tell the story of times the world has taken its payment. Memories haunt those who know the cruelty of the world, or those who have been a victim of those who brought it into their world. He does not find himself to be a victim to the world in that way, not when he is molded into what darkness already fills this place. He considers taking a step into the morning light, but the new scent of two others entering into the environment halt him. The gold-blood eyes curiously watch as mother and son enter into the scene. A wolfish-grin ever grows quickly on his lips at the way the child plumps forward, full of life and child-like innocence. The hungry tugs at him again—reminding him of what he needs. He ignored it again. Curiosity overcomes all his needs—something deeper is her to be dug at then a simple meal to eat. He has chased at the hunger all his life—finding his father again had proven to be useless. The hound pulls away from the shadow, allowing the morning light to bring him into sight. He knows he is already known. He watched them from the shadows, smelling him—the notion weighing in their eyes if they should stay or go. Most others had run, but these three had stayed. And he wonders why. Why didn’t they run when trouble was near? “What could you possibly be afraid of?” He asks playfully, stalking through the last remaining shadows that cover his body. The wolfish-grin returns to his muzzle, red-golden eyes carefully looking to both the grey-lavender and mother-son group. He considers for the briefest moments if he is not a welcomed guest to their group. The thought does not last there long—he has often been an uninvited guest to many things.

character info: here | character reference: here