" Let the bodies hit the floor, let the bodies hit the floor "

Singing these lyrics loudly and mercilessly he walked along the forest path, he indulged in his favorite song, after it all it was full of hate and screaming, containing blood lust and fear. He enjoyed walking-no prowling around in the dark, it was fun to torture other animals he found, a bonus if it was his own kind. He let loose a terrorizing howl, one so loud and full of destruction the birds flew out of their nests to twitter in the air nervously. He laughed aloud when a small deer shot past him, jumping away in terror. His thoughts only consisted of terror, torture, and fury. He would kill the sorry wolf that happened to bump into him at this late hour, he took control of the night, he was swallowed up in it. He was blacker than ink, he could blend into the shadows and the only thing other creatures saw was his fiery red eyes, looking like small flames in hell.

His voice was like thunder, angry thunder. It scared his mother, his siblings, and above all his father. He was exiled for killing his dad, a feat he didn't regret, not after what he did to his sister. He never spoke of what happened to her, and he never would, preferring to keep it to himself. His muzzle hung low to the ground, eyes closed. He had trained his minds eye to be perfect, he could sense weather he was going the right way, he could sense other creature better with his eyes closed, but he never let that on. A foggy mist clouded the area, and he still marched through it with his eyes closed. He looked fearsome, emerging from one cloud to the next like a shadow, scaring countless creatures along the way.

" Driven by hate, Consumed by fear "

Walking painfully, limping heavily, Tyrant was able to stagger up the canyon side in the late hours of the night. His scared face was fixed in a pained expression though he wouldn't let himself whine. No, there was to be no complaints, he had gotten himself into the mess that had made him this way.

Limping sharply he watched as another approached. His dull crimson eyes shifted uneasily as the over-sized wolf hesitated to fumble out of the way. Kamikaze didn't look like a wolf to mess with, at least, not in the condition Tyrant was in.

With blood matted sides, and a favored foot, Tyrant looked anything but graceful. More like a walking zombie this wolf was. "Salutations my friend." He said, a sly smirk upon his maw. He couldn't help it, being a smart ass was his nature. His smile was that of a friendly smile, though arrogance cursed itself all over his 180 pound black frame.