[justify]It wasn't a whole lot cooler up in the mountains, but I'd pick the shadowed peaks over paved city streets any day. I didn't understand why anyone would linger there, trapped between slabs of stone and wood, when this existed right on their doorstep. But then, perhaps I did understand... sort of. Back when I was a pup, back when I was Kevorkian, I'd been the same way. I'd hardly ever strayed away from Cascaro's inner streets, had been content to dwell within surroundings of Man's creation. I hadn't known better, hadn't yet experienced anything more satisfying. The other city dogs must be the same. Pity for them, really. They were missing out. They were missing out on the glorious magnificence of the wilderness, where nature grew unpredictable and unhindered, feral beasts lurking around every corner. However, it was also where creatures weren't clustered together like packaged meat, but roamed free and clear of one another unless they wished to be found or were hunted. Such was the wondrous loneliness of the mountains, of the forest. I loved it, thrived in it. If not for Cruor's charge to me, I'd still be in my mountains, a collection of jagged peaks even more secluded than these.

”I hope you're not whining again,” a spirit groaned. "Jeez, Ankou, stop your fucking lamenting over your stupid mountains. You were next to useless there, you know. Sacrificing mountain goats and rams, sure, and the occasional dog when one happened to test the mountain, but it was a meager count. Your devotions were being wasted there. Here... here you can do some real good, make a real impact. Don't you want that?" The answer was obvious, and it rose from my lips without contemplation. "Yes... of course."
"Then forget the other mountains. These are your mountains now, for when you're not doing your duties in the city. Be grateful that Cruor saw fit to provide you with any at all!" That was true, I had to admit. My God could've just as easily sent me somewhere without mountains or trees, a place devoid of nature and ruled by cement and asphalt. But He didn't. He sent me here, where there was a forest and a treacherous mountain range, closer as it was to a major city. Besides, rather than rams and goats, this range was home to black bears; harder to kill, but richer in sustenance, and a more worthy sacrificial gift. "I'm sorry," I murmured, continuing my trek deeper into the mountains. "I am grateful, of course. Cruor has been more than good to me. I have no cause to lament."
"That's more like it."

Jaws cracked to allow my tongue to loll out in a pant as I ascended one of the milder cliffs, disliking the heat as it beat against my pelt. That was the downside of having a coat that was thick, long, and black, the three perils of warm weather: I didn't do well in hot climates, especially during the summer months. It got insufferable sometimes, but I knew it was just something I had to deal with. Luckily for me, when I glanced down from the cliffside, I spotted something that drew my attention away from my discomfort. There between the trees, lumbering with a bizarre gait that didn't seem quite right, was a young black bear. Couldn't have been more than an adolescent, though even then, she was by no means insignificant in size. "You see how she's walking?" a spirit whispered in my ear, her voice melting from the stones beneath my paws. "She's injured... back leg, I think. You'll know when you get closer. Use that. It'll still be hard to fell her, but you might be able to manage it." What the spirit didn't have to tell me was that without Cruor's strength, I wouldn't stand a chance. Lowering my skull, I began to pray, eyelids eased closed. "My Lord, grant my body the strength and skill to carry out this deed for You, to fetch You this princely prize. And if it so pleases You, allow me to live past this day, and not meet death before I can better perform Your charge to me."

Confidence renewed, I made my way back down the cliff, rounding to where the bear was limping along. My coat blended into the shadows, becoming one with the darkness of the trees and underbrush, as I stalked toward her, cranial low and vision focused upon her limping figure. When I was closer, I did see what was making her limp: her back leg was indeed injured, an angry gash oozing fresh blood. From the awkward angle at which she was half-dragging it, I guessed the leg was broken. Excellent. If it wasn't a display of weakness, I would've grinned. As it was, I simply stared.

Once the bear was a couple feet past me, her rump closest, I sprung. I went directly for the broken leg, enamel sinking into the gash and wrenching it to the side, hoping to throw her on her side. She swung around, cast off-balance, and bellowed, swiping a paw at me. Missing me by no more than an inch. I felt her flesh rip further as I tugged once more on her leg, this time pulling it out completely from under her. Perhaps I dislocated it from the joint, I didn't know. It didn't matter. Whatever I did, she stumbled, flailed and roared with disdain. Then I threw my weight against her and she was on her side, refusing to go on her back. I tried to lunge at her throat but she caught me with one of her front paws, claws cleaving through fur and flesh to the muscle underneath, right across my left shoulder. The impact alone sent me sprawling back, back into her underbelly, so it was that part of her that I attacked. Ivories dug deep into the soft flesh there, ignoring her claws as I unearthed her innards, began to rip out and devour her organs as she writhed and screamed with such ferocity that it shook the trees, made their leaves tremble.

The bear died slowly, agonized bellows gradually fading to groans, and then silence. It would've been simpler to sever her esophagus, but she hadn't allowed that. Besides, it was always fascinating to me when I got to split open a still-alive creature, observe how its body shut down piece by piece. I loved knowing how the body worked, how it died.

Only when I was positive the bear was dead did I begin to drag its corpse, wishing to get somewhere out of immediate sight to perform my sacrifice. No use for some random wanderer to come and try to take it when I was in the middle of my ritual. Only a small ways away I spotted a cave, and a tiny thrill ran through me. It was too much like the one I'd called home in my former mountains, consumed by shadows and oozing with the musk of decay. "You are much too good to me, Cruor."

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A message for: Praxis
The sender: Ankou
Writing so many words: 1,175
As the records play: Puppet by Thousand Foot Krutch
P.S. <3
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[justify]The bear's flesh scraped dully against stone as I dragged its carcass further into the cave, until its pelt blended into the shadows and they became one, a solid mass of black just barely hidden from prying eyes. For a moment I stood there in silence, dark eyes tracing the lines of its body. Rolling valleys of furred black. Black smeared with red, so dark a red it was practically black itself, pools of midnight blood filling caverns gouged into the textured hillsides. It was a magnificent sight, the bear's mangled hide. A piece of damn artwork. An incondite piece of artwork, maybe, but art nonetheless. Looking at it, I saw the promised destruction of everything that thought itself better than all others, of everything that put itself before Cruor. I saw a tribute to my God himself, blood and flesh sprawled out in what would soon be His glory, a temple of His creation.
"Fantastic, isn't it, Cruor's handiwork?" The spirit sounded as awed as I felt, whispering into my ear with a marveling note. "Bone and nerves and blood and muscle and flesh and fur, all woven perfectly together to create a beast. Such a worthy sacrifice. Such an honorable prize."

It was all I could do not to puff out my chest, expand my lungs with pride, at those words. They were hardly in direct praise of me, I knew - much moreso praise of Cruor's creation of the bear -, but I still derived a great deal of pleasure from knowing I'd been able to fell such a grand prize for my God.

A calm hush descended upon me as I lowered myself toward the bear, hung my bulk over its opened stomach. My shoulder stung where its claws slashed my flesh apart, slicing through muscle almost down to the bone. A welcome pain, welcome bloodshed, for the sake of this sacrifice. Giving of the body was essential, after all. How better could I thank Him for granting me a body than by returning some fraction of it to Him? Besides, now I didn't have to break my own skin. Just worsen the damage already inflicted. Lips curled back as I reached for my torn shoulder, incisors cutting into the raw flesh. Blood burst anew from the nerves lingering beneath, pouring down the meat of my leg and onto the bear, mingling with its fluids. Nostrils flared as I drank in the concoction of odors, eyes rolling momentarily back.
"It is with greatest humility that I offer this bear to you, oh Cruor, as a sacrifice and thanks..."

I didn't know when my eyes had closed, but when they opened again, I was no longer in the cave. The landscape was barren and smeared with red, the earth pulsating like a beating heart. A maelstrom loomed overhead, black and red and breathing, so great and terrible I nearly trembled. When I looked down I saw that the bear was still at my paws, blood pooling up until it reached halfway up my forelegs, a giant lake of crimson. But I wasn't afraid. No. I knew this place, perhaps a little too well. Stare shifted to linger on the open air, watching distorted whips of soul emerge from the fabric of the surrounding mist. Some of them were nearly whole, missing only ears or eyes or legs. Others were just a head or an eye or an appendage, halves of their living selves, portions of soul waiting to be given another body. The ones Cruor thought deserved a second life, reincarnation. Their mouths - those that had one - gaped open, screaming desire. They knew why I was here, what I was doing. They smelled the blood, the fresh meat. But it wasn't for them, and they knew that, too.

"For you, my Lord," I murmured, and cut my shoulder open more, let a small piece of flesh fall into the bear's open stomach. All at once, the ground gave a harsh pulse, then rippled like a shockwave. I watched as the bear began to sink beneath the surrounding blood, absorbed by the earth. Taken by Cruor. Accepted. I felt a surge of pleasure rush through me, so strong I was knocked off my paws and into the blood lake. The scarlet liquid splashed up to cover me, flood my nose and ears and eyes until I didn't see and didn't breathe, but I couldn't have cared less. The pleasure was still overwhelming me; if I'd had any less self-control, I would've been laughing like a maniac. I didn't know how I managed to stay silent, stare ahead without expression into the red, forget my senses.

A bizarre grumbling sound brought me back. My eyes refocused and I was back in the cave, bent over the bear, my shoulder oozing only a thin drizzle of blood now. Muzzle turned in the direction of the sound, finding a small form standing deeper in the cave, visible only due to the stark whiteness of her pelt. A pup. I stared at her and would have smiled, but my lips only reached as far as a twitch before returning to their usual blank line. The young were the easiest to save, to bring back to Cruor.
"You sound hungry," I murmured, and a chuckle followed it that held a hollow chime, humorless. "Come, then. Feast on blessed food."

I didn't know what brought about that act of charity. It was out of character for me, starkly unusual. But my sacrifice ritual, and Cruor's obvious approval of what I'd offered Him, had put me in a splendid temper.
How relieved the pup should feel, that she'd been so lucky to find me now.

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A message for: Praxis
The sender: Ankou
Writing so many words: 945
As the records play: Puppet by Thousand Foot Krutch
P.S. Sorry for the wait! D: You decide if Praxis just sees Ankou standing over the bear, or if he acts out what he thinks is happening in that other "world." xD Also, used the WotW.
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