The demon is out hunting, mercury irises flashing like those of a starving wolf, harks pinned similarly. In the pale luminescence of the Deserter his horn shines like liquid silver, glinting off the ivory and illuminating the wicked point at the tip. The moonbeams dance along his bloody canvas, only creating a darker illusion of death and destruction as he stalks through the wintery lands with a silence only a permanent inhabitant could manage. He is a panther, his gait long and graceful, sinuous. Muscles ripple beneath his wicked hide, pale scars glinting in the half light given to the beings below.

Once upon a time he had lived here, in these thick blankets of snow, in the flat, unprotected tundra of frostbite and pneumonia. He had sworn his allegiance to a snowy man here, had suffered in the extreme weather with a grin. How childish he had been, how infinitely cheerful, and yet he’d never been happier in his life. Back before he’d met Phaedra, before he had to choose between love and loyalty, before he sired his beautiful twins, before he had to side with one of his leaders. Life had been a game of chess, and if you made one wrong move, on bad decision, or upset the wrong person, you were dead. Now, Tolio was different. Instead of playing by the other side’s rules, now he took control. If he didn’t like the way things were turning out, he flipped the goddamn board and punched you in the face.

Life was good.

From nowhere the sound of giggling was sharp across his hearing, a sudden intrusion in his world of solitude and silence. A scowl crossed his handsome face, disturbed and intrigued by the closeness of the jovial noise. Angling towards it, the demon set upon the trail. And what would be at the end of that trail, but a little bunny awaiting the jaws of a wolf? She was pewter and pearl, a tiny thing in comparison to his height, with nice curves that defined her breed. And upon her crown...was nothing. Snarl upon his lips at this sight, Tolio advanced upon the blissed out equine. Shoving his fore half heavenbound, he slammed his bloody painted hooves down not far from her head, lunging forward towards her to accomplish it. He was silent and quick, he knew this land better than a herd member knew their home.

Like a rabid dog he bared his teeth and growled, ears disappearing into his head, short mane wild and tail whipping against his legs threateningly. Strong shoulders braced, displaying the thick muscle layered upon them, sinewy neck doing the same as he arced down towards her face to point his horn a little past her face. Silver irises were narrowed upon her features, and a cruel, jagged grin took over his snarl. ”Didn’t you ever hear the tale about the lost little girl and the big evil demon?” he taunted in his deep voice, wicked smile still stretching dark cinnamon lips. ”Your kind are not welcome this far north, child. Now, I wonder how you’ll look with a little...bit...of red,” he purred, suave and dark, promising pain in the sweetest way. The herd scent on her coat was hard to distinguish when she’d been rolling in the snow like an idiot, but he honestly didn’t give a shit where she came from. He liked to live on the edge, so to speak.

@[Hana]