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04-10-2013, 05:27 AM
 THE PLAGUE
Mauja
His kindness in sparing the mare for a few more minutes to give his fellows something to play with was wasted, as the Red Doctor drew up beside Crowley. Mauja gazed across to him and nodded, something warm stealing across his gaze in that cold night before his attention returned to the terrified, tongue-tied mare. But when her legs suddenly folded and she fell to her side in the snow with a soft thud, her face glazed over with something peaceful, he let his 'brows arch up. Somehow, he guessed his red friend was responsible for it, and it was only confirmed when the hellhound darted forward to sink his fangs into Therror's throat. Warm blood gushed out, spraying into the night with each beat of her fading heart. The wound steamed into the cold darkness.
Then d'Artagnan was close by, shoving Leyra aside, but Mauja just grimaced. "It's whatever now, she's dead anyway, she can't talk," he said grimly, a faint grimace curling his lips back. It wasn't that he detested killing (well, in a way he certainly did), just that.. it was so stupid. If Therra had just kept her ears to herself, this sticky end would've been avoided. But, as always, it was too late for that. His cold eyes fixed on Leyra. "Speak no word of this to anyone, except me or the Doctor. Now, then." He straightened up; Leyra had seemed different since her return, but if what she had seen would fester like an unclean wound, he wanted her to be able to let it out on someone — namely, himself, or d'Art. Maybe even Crowley. The two latter would just laugh at her, but that wasn't his problem. "I've got a mare to fetch." Smiling grimly to himself Mauja backed away from the dead mare, brushed his muzzle against d'Art's red hip before nodding at the others and moving away south. [ Mauja out. <3 ] BANE  |
