he heaved out after the damsel murmured toward his direction, her retort toting throughout the nightly breeze as it bristled at the rears of the outskirts that overclouded behind him. it was an intricate scenario, to imbibe in. he was preparing for another, partisan skirmish, the one out of arrant outrage and vengeance for the demise of her associate. but as the brute observed the scene unfurl into a crestfallen ambiance, he discerned the beads of tears skidding in the noiseless atmosphere rowdier than any unspoken idiom, persuading the brute to crane his entire physique from the damsel, indicating his disinclination to communicate any further. and to prove, that he was as halfhearted to oppose as the damsel was. but in the dreadful quietude, he had not dwelt close-mouthed. with a tilt of his cranium, he declared, ".. consider your next measures carefully. my threats harbour weight ..." he demeaned benevolent which was an unlikelihood for the behemoth-like brute, but what was there to propose? he was in dismay the same way the damsel was too, not keen to act on his spoken responses. as the damsel had not considered his demise as her reassurance, therefore the brute had not considered her deceased cadaver as his solace either.

but before he considered his flee, drenching in his blood, he mumbled. ".. in a province of debts, you're not even a footnote. so consider yourself pardoned .."

his behold disclosed the truth, her proposal was beyond his ends, and the trust between them was — nonexistent. he had not considered her as someone he'd entrust in his drawbacks, he was not keen to be conned or taken care of, it made him seem wimpish and witless. it made him look like a poltroon that triumphed but pursued after the console of another foreign canine. he declined, politely or not, mumbling whatever foulness befell out of his clenched mandibles, not sounding so considerate after all. but more belligerent than before. "... i don't require your feeble assistance. it's beneath my needs... " he had turned toward the damsel, his cranium lilted yet his shoulders foundered, the blood appeared like an overcoat that he wore, smearing across his broad shoulders, his tarnished back and the sides of his neck, moulding his fur against his incised flesh. ''.. i'd choose death over reliance on anyone's aid.. '' he chimed. withdrawing back once again, like he had uttered enough, given by the fact how his voice sounded. bereft of its usual strength and gruffness, now a breathy grasp he forced out of his throat.

"tomorrow, i'll be a mere remembrance. live as if i had never plied your path.'' he wheezed, turning to stagger into the dense outskirts of the woodland.

the practical part of him comprehended her retort, comprehended the significance a clan may do to a wayfarer the likes of him who was practically jostling through the door of demise. all tarnished and coated in the blood of her mother whilst his odour, a putrid stench in the nightly breeze harboured throughout the barren yet perilous province. but he was too absorbed in his roots to endorse it vocally, he had never tolerated assistance even at his lowest, not all wanted to assist a strayed brute, so he believed it was all a mere gimmick. but despite that, he had ceased his strides, flaunting his backside that was burnished by the moonbeams of the moon, outlining his hindquarters and the bits of blood blanketing it. he considered it, somewhat. sponged in her last breath that fluttered with the last response she emitted.

''.. same hour tomorrow, you'll find me here. if not, then demises embrace has found me... '' he strained his voice, pitching in volume so that the damsel abiding in the far-fetched distance may hear.

it hurt his spirit to trust, it made him infuriated just to believe how fragile he was. and how right the damsel was, it simmered his blood and made his face etch in a pucker of distaste. but it was all veiled by the gloaming of the towering groves, just underlining how burnt and incensed his stare was. ''.. luck favours you, mongrel. ..'' he chided in a callous murmur, turning away to vanish back into the cool murkiness of the eldritch woodland.

the gloominess that cocooned the woodland washed over the coldness on his agape, charring wounds and on the stiffness that grabbed his scrag and paralyzed it to move, latching his crania in place as he sauntered throughout the fringes of the eldritch woodland, with no place or purpose rooted in his brain, just ache to rot his every thought that entrenched in the foundations of his dome. he hunted after consolation, for some itty-bitty ease that could make the gnashing of his teeth slighter and the raucous moans that poured from the corners of his chomps more hushed. he was a denuded and a breezy mark now, powerless amid the gates of demise for those who oversaw. he was clad of flesh and blood, persecuted by an antagonist he had not foreseen. everything that he did, wherever he fled, whatever he emitted, came with a consequence of hell. it was like the divinities were turning him in the direction of anguish so that the felled spirit could not embellish the planet in its desolate hues and could just disperse from the motherlands like an early daybreak haze, vapouring into the welkins and not abandoning its trace havocing the forestries.

but once it all withered into duskiness, his knees curved and strained at the overstretching loss of control. descending onto the blotches of verdure that bode as bedding for his unconscious and bloodied cadaver.