affame_le_geant_one_life_alone fyn gula "DON'T JUST FUCKING STAND THERE!" cayris yelled to poj linent, his first rank attendant. the black-muzzled wolf-man stood at the bottom of the stairs frozen by the failure of his search. he looked down momentarily through the black leather mask he wore around his eyes, afraid to make contact with his leader, who he had just disappointed. the freezing winter chill of the bedroom, the open window, and the curtain blowing inwards like a flag proclaiming the mandrill's freedom were the evidence he brought down with him. yet, it was no use informing cayris ot these trivial occurences. if he could not present the mandrill as instructed, what use was he? "i will dispatch a search party at once, sir cayris." poj said, placing a stiff gloved hand against his temple as both a salute and an offer of regret. cayris was infamous for cutting the throats of those he deemed insubordinates, even if they exhausted themselves in the attempt to carry out their particular missions. even if the results of their inefficacies were completely out of their control. cayris did not tolerate imperfection or anything contrary to his cause. his agenda was white on white and any blemish was considered resistance. and when a revolution lives and breaths, resistance, even as microscopic as bacteria can breed an infection that will grow to be devastating. and then why did his wolf-men work for him? everyone knows perfection does not exist. because he paid good. real good. that's why. it was vital, when dealing with cayris that you possessed an immediate remedy to any problem. it was like problem? solution. and even if you only thought you did, it was better dying in the attempt than dying without hope. the human part of wolf-men betrayed them so easily, those elements of fear, doubt, worry, and inability. that "insufferable hunger" to be all wolf, to lose the humanity. it was the fruit of tantalus just beyond the grasp. dennis browne represented to them what it meant to be all wolf. to live apart. to be one with the self. to need nobody. and so, cayris was pleased at poj's quick recovery. he turned away from him with a silence that signified respect and trust. with that mercy and absence of retribution, poj could continue and therefore took keggi truus, known for his ability to run fast and think quick, and a pair of warthogs whose noses were well trained in tracking. they found ignet blackfire's foot prints immediately, leading a beeline to the woods of barren oaks and maples. there was still a mob of revolutionaries, some fifty strong, gathered in the backyard of the farmhouse. a large bonfire had been created by setting twinkletoes's cardboard cart ablaze. they added to the ravenous flames, rising twenty feet into the blackness, by chopping up couge's wooden cart with their sharp, steel-edged weapons, having first killed all six of his border collies. they lay in a twisted heap of black and white fur, blood staining the snow around them. the mob, dressed in nordic hats and genuine wolf pelts they had secured from annual raids in the highlands surrounding montblanc, having participated in week long celebrations that were as bacchanal as they were holy,(oh, to be all wolf) chanted pro-"IHD" (insufferable hunger of the damned) slogans such as... "w-e w-a-n-t d-e-n-n-i-s b-r-o-w-n-e !-!-!-!-!-!-! and "o-n-e l-i-f-e a-l-o-n-e !-!-! yet, perhaps most disurbing of all was they had twinkletoes tied to a wooden post, his paper arms and feet pulled back and secured with haybaling rope. they were only waiting for cayris's order to toss him in. 030213 what's it to you? who go blather from