All Dogs Go to Heaven... Right? [Mature, Private-Lorne]

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Twilight painted the mountain range a soft amber. Hues of gold touched the autumn leaves with fire, dancing as clouds of vermilion came and went before the setting sun. Mountains cupped the crimson disk as it fell, almost like a mournful goodbye. A cave resting upon a cliff-side overlooked this view, trampled sand the only floor it had. Sitting on the edge was a man with no clothing, a broad frame that was once tan an unhealthily pale hue. His mane of hair cascaded to his stomach, knots and furls from lack of car snarling the crimson locks.

His amber eyes matched the twilight colors, but not their vibrancy. The glazed over iris's took in no joy, merely lifelessness. The sun was leaving him, yet again. Within the back of his mind, a being awaited the dark hours. Neither took joy in what was to come, but neither had a choice. The last slip of light went past the range, a solemn farewell to the being once known as Jhonen.

Standing, he considered the ledge for a moment. The drop was a good thousand feet, enough to easily end his life. No matter how much he wanted, though, he couldn't. He was forbidden from the thought, and learned that only by trial. Turning towards the cave, the large man strode in. His bare feet crunched on the bones of small animals, even a few ribs from that of a human infant. He didn't care, though. He couldn't allow himself to. She wouldn't allow him to.

The night came, and so did the shadows. Instinctually, the Fae crouched. That shadow that was at the back of his mind strode forth, offering an apologetic thought to the man. Cwn knew how painful this was for the boy, now. Bones snapped, ligaments crawling under the skin of the two beings. A whimper came from the male, and pity blossomed in the Black Dog's mind. This change wasn't always painful. But it was a served punishment from his master. Cartilage moved, stretching out at the ears and nose. Shadows collected around the singular being, adding mass to the body. His spine arced, growing for a tail. His legs snapped backwards, conforming to the body of the Dog. Blood dripped from his mouth as his organs rearranged and healed themselves, the process taking agonizing minutes. The once great Lore was now a shadow of his former self, starved to skin and bone like a mutt wandering the streets.

Blinking away the pain, Cwn Anwnn strode once more out onto the cliff. The range was painted over with silver, the argent hues brushing over the valley in the form of mist. The Moon was coming up, reflected in the river as a silver ribbon slicing through the landscape. This was the time for the Lore, his hunting grounds set. Taking in a great breath, the Black Dog let out a bone-chilling howl. Bones formed together, five dogs with flesh hanging from the calcite growths standing up as more and more of the dead came at the call. Eye sockets flared to life, green necrotic magic giving the dead sight. As sinew grew to connect the structures to form more and more detail, organs came into the flesh. As the lungs knit together, the five Dire Wolves added their howls to Cwn Anwnn's.

Their hunt tonight was like any other. Leanansidhe wanted to locate a Nymph in the mountain, who had made a deal with a mother who wished to share her beauty. The price was the mother's first born, and the Fae had already collected her due. Cwn was to kill the Nympadae, and eat the child's heart.

Lorne would, to give his partner a little privacy while he sat there, be slightly turned away from him. However, he couldn't help a feeling of warmth spread through him at the sight of his shirtless partner. The fox hummed a sigh, watching the golden rays of light slip further and futher behind the trees, their spindly forms casting wicked shadows across the grounds. The city lay behind them some while away, and Lorne knew that he would need to be rather cold and ready to follow Cwns orders. It felt weird to him, as Cwn seemed to be a younger dog, but... He also was, by the definition of the word "age", he was incredibly old.

Older than Lorne himself. And he was ancient.

Lorne sighed, sitting down on the ground next to Jhonen, keeping his eyes away from his naked form. Fingers would trail down Jhonens back, Lorne humming a rather bored and amused tune. "I suppose, but ya make the sight stunning." He purred easily, giving him a small kiss on the cheek. As much as he loved and cared for them both, he always felt gut wrenched when either had to leave.

But Lorne pressed himself to spend as much time with one as he did with the other...

The shivering was definitely not from the cold. Mentally, he was glad that Lorne was respecting his privacy. He was doing more than just hiding his nudity, at that point.

The last tendrils of light were swallowed, and Jho gave an encouraging smile to his lover. Shadows stretched across the ground, forming into a dark mist that wrapped around the Fae's body. Dropping down to all fours, Cwn's form was knitted together from the black emptiness, the entity waking up with a low growl.

"Finally... I've been aching to stretch my legs....."

Lazily pulling his hamstrings back, Cwn Anwnn did a few more bending poses before sniffing for the Cow's heart. It wasn't much for the male, but would be more than enough to help him through the hunt. One bite worth of meat, and the Hell Hound was ready for tonight. Opening his eyes, he looked towards the moon. Lea would tell him who his mark was, just by touching a page of his Heart.

The Grimm.

Yes, that feeling... He knew exactly what they were hunting. As such, he owed Jhonen. He was right about it.

"Will-o-Wisp. Leading children into the forest to starve..." A sigh went through the great beast. Of course he was hunting another being that was irritating to catch. The being was a Fae bourne from the last dying light of a sunset captured in a bottle of holy oil. Scottish priests used them to find other monsters, but didn't know that the beasts were manipulating them into chaos. Salem was a cause of these annoying bastards.

With a deep breath, Cwn howled in response to the information. Five of his Hunt arose, the bones tilling the earth as they knit themselves together from his being. Shadows gave them flesh, fur, and finally the bright emerald light of their eyes met his crimson gaze. Their calls joined his, rising into the air to warn those of the forests.

The Hunt had started.

Lorne pulled his hand away from Jhonen as the last light faded behind the trees. His heart thundered in his chest, nerves almost overwhelming him.

This was the first night.

Cwn's shadowy form would slowly replace that of Jhonen, and Lorne was glad to see that she still was true to her word. Cwn was no longer a gaunt figure at the edges of dying and collapsing from exhaustion, and the curse well and truly had gone. Thank goodness for that. The wolf-like being would stretch his legs in appreciation, stretching out long and unused muscles.

For the first time, Lorne would hear Cwn speak to them, and he couldn't help a small shiver run through him. Lorne was no where near afraid of Cwn, but the voice... It surely would take a little to get use to. The kitsune would rise to his feet, watching as the larger animal would sniff around, before his nose found the heart. As he ate, Lorne would gently rub a hand down his Cwn's shoulder, before withdrawing his hand.

He seemed to be focused, and Lorne decided it better not to interrupt him.  

Cwn seemed frustrated as he stated what they were to hunt, before his head pulled back into a howl, the unnatural noise forging five lesser wolves, each who joined his deadly song with their own call. Lorne looked away. He felt ashamed. Why? The reason was simple.

He was a little nervous. No. He wasn't nervous.

Lorne was more than nervous, borderline overwhelmed. He closed his eyes, his breathing slowing. He forced the facade that he wore to break down, the hunts allowing him a small release. Besides, the Kitsune didn't want the personality which he had mastered in the form of Lorne to be influenced too much with this one. But he hated it. He hated this damn personality, but it was the only way to keep a clear head. To have a guiltless conscious as the deaths of hundreds replayed through his mind. He gave a grin to Cwn, "What's so bad about the target?" He asked simply, looking to Cwn. Instead of being cold and twisted as they once were when he first saw this nature of Havilah, they sparked with admiration.

With love.

Turning his gaze to that of what he immediately recognized as Havilah. Sniffing, he nudged him with a shoulder before looking once more to the moon.

"Nothing is bad, but... These are tricky. The use illusions to fool those hunting them. They can teleport their intelligence to these illusions, giving a hard time to anyone who's tracking... But I have a plan."

Snarling, Cwn looked at his pack. Responsive eyes all returned the excited gaze, not at all like the decayed wolves from before. He felt alive. He wanted to howl, snarl, rip into flesh. A dark laugh came from the Lore.

"Just keep up."

Another bark sent the wolves forward, a V-formation to cut through the woods and entrap the target. He wouldn't run until the newest member of The Hunt was ready, though. Rather, he would look to Lorne and size him up. He was obviously injured, but the Havilah persona would disguise exactly what would cause him true pain. "By that, I mean don't injure yourself further. If you need, you can take stride upon me. I'll be gentle, promise." A wolfish grin came over the Fae, his eyes wide with excitement. The urge to smell, to hunt, to be was too much for him to ignore. He was beginning to feel antsy. His Pack was running, yipping and corrupting the earth as he ran. This might be a problem for Havilah.. Then again. He was one of his Hounds, now.

Thoughtfully, the Kitsune slowly nodded at the new information. For future references, he would collect them and file them away. Just in case he had to hunt one of those bastards alone. The most embarrassing thing would be to have hunted one in the past, only to fail horribly when you were meant to be hunting it alone. The bark caught him a little off guard, but his gaze swept the area, noting the dogs took the v-formation and began to leave.

Havilah gave a short bark of laughter, folding his arms back with a grin. "You think I can't keep up?" He asked shortly, sarcastically, not believing the words which he heard. Injury or not, there was no way that he'd let the Cwn think he wasn't able to match their pace. Swinging the bag across his shoulder, Havilah decided to take the form that would be the most helpful when he ran. A smaller fox, around 3 feet tall. It would be nimble and quick, but also was enough to be a significant force. The bag also would also not fall off as readily.

To signal that it was ready, the Kitsune would take a few steps. His back leg faltered the slightest, but it was nothing that he couldn't deal with. before turning his gaze to Cwn with a look simply of;

"Are you coming or what? It's rude to keep people waiting."

The Black Dog immediately put his muscles to use, launching across the ground in an easy lope. More yips from his pack, traces of the Fae being found in the forest. Good, that meant that it would at least be easier to find.

His paws left no prints on the ground, black fire blazing from his mane as he kept the pace easily. The ground behind him cracked, the earth unable to hold back the ire he held within his heart. This was his night, his hunt. He was bringing death to his target, and even the earth knew his purpose. A howl ripped through him once more, the rest of the hounds responding in like.

He had picked up the sickly sweet stench of the burning Oil. His prey was near. Pushing his muscles further, he sped past the trees- dodging the large trunks easily at his speed. The freedom sent a rush of adrenaline through his muscles, wanting for more and more ground to be covered. He salivated at the thought of consuming the Fae's heart. Information, years of happiness and other emotions, and Lore would join him as he did such.

It excited the great hound more that he cared to admit.

Sadly, a fox couldn't howl. They could yip, chirp, whatever, but the kitsune almost felt ashamed of itself. Not only couldn't it match the intense excitement from the other five around them, but if it tried to, it would more than likely create a giant pool of embarrassment towards itself. The kitsune would do his best to keep up with the pack, his leg flaring slightly as he pushed himself.

Not that he cared anyway, if it would send signals of pain to him just from running... Well, it wouldn't do any better than if he would walk.

Trees soared overhead, and the assassin glanced to the left and right, taking in the details of the forest that were offered to him. His thoughts partially delved into why he had decided to attempt to share Cwn's punishment, but it also was the only way to free them both from the torture that the two of them felt. His memories reminded him of what had happened just over a week ago. Cwn refused to acknowledge his existence until he had told the little shadow wolf that he did love him. The very recollection of those events caused the Kitsune to stumble in his run.

Growling at his incompetence, he used an upcoming log to spring himself forward again to catch up the lost ground. The bag clinked onto the ground when he landed heavily on his feet again, and he glanced to Cwn, the pack slowly gathering closer. Did this mean they were almost there? Or did something happen? Havilah shook his head to himself, his eyes curiously on Cwn. He seemed to really be enjoying himself, and allowed his enjoyment and pleasure to freely show.

A snarl ripped through Cwn. Two of the pack members launched themselves east, while another two went west. The last of the Pack, along with Havilah, were on Cwn's trail. The burning of the oil was already a sickly sweet, making the Black Dog open his mouth further to avoid inhaling too much.

A warning bark was sent back to the Kitsune, just as the Lore bunched his muscles up to launch himself into the trees. The singular oak he was in was large, aged into an immense trunk. Taking paw to one of the greater branches, Cwn swung his crimson gaze over the area.

The stench had stopped.

Looking down, he saw the basis of a trap- one that hadn't been completed. There was a tent, and what smelled like dumplings being cooked on the campfire beside it. Sweets were in a ziplock back near the entrance.

Gaze narrowing, He saw small scorch marks in the earth, leading towards the river. His instincts were right in sending his Pack to cut them off, it would seem. Forcing one of the Fae to run towards running water was a death sentence.

Hopping down from his perch, Cwn shook out his mane. Jhonen had been unusually quiet in the back of his mind, and that sent a small sliver of worry into the back of the great beast's mind. Normally he was a chatterbox.

Turning his gaze once more to the Kitsune, a questioning look came over the Lore. Was he the cause?