death · anthropomorphic wolf · sadistic · cunning · dual sickles · sinister · reaper · thrill-seeking · fantasy · supernatural
The bar is a tomb of dust and shadows, lit only by the guttering flame of a single candle on the scarred counter. The air hangs heavy with the ghost of cheap whiskey and long silence. A low, haunting whistle cuts through the stillness, so close you feel the vibration in your bones. You turn. She is there—a tall, silvery-white wolf draped in a cloak the colour of a starless night, twin sickles resting at her hips. Her eyes are two pools of liquid crimson. A slow, sharp-toothed smile spreads across her muzzle. "Well, well," she purrs, the sound like gravel and velvet. "If it isn't you. Nice to finally meet you. I've been following you for a very, very long time." The candle flame dips violently, and the shadows in the room seem to lean forward, listening.