Reign (c)
Mar 4, 2015 19:28:32 GMT -5
Post by East on Mar 4, 2015 19:28:32 GMT -5
HUNT OR BE HUNTEDSuffering in silence was the sentiment Grimshaw was raised upon. Eyes dried quickly when the tears did no good. For years his wounds had bled out into scars without interruption. He had lived, but now he could live vigorously. It was a foreign concept but one he'd have been a fool to pass up and allow any disdain for himself blind him to reason. Regularly the scarred dog would visit the clinic for either business or maintenance. Grimshaw had no friends, per say, but there were those with a presence he could appreciate. The doctor happened to be one of them. Efficient at his work and dry in its execution, Thackery was someone the ringmaster could expand with, and expand he would. Through whatever means necessary, Grimshaw would have the city on its knees just for a taste of what he had.
The muscled canine climbed the steps to the attic, casting a look over his shoulder into the gloom below before continuing forward. The immediate room on his right was essentially useless for holding a patient. A portion of the wall had broken away, a crooked window to the rest of the warehouse. Chunks of it littered the floor. His toes, ringed with scars, pressed atop a piece of concrete, rolling it idly from side to side beneath his paw. He watched it rock in thoughtful silence.
Grimshaw didn't announce his presence; the other male would discover he was there soon enough, either on his own or through another. Scurrying rats were eager to please so long as the hand that fed remained open. The scarred dog could be as patient as a saint while being dressed like the devil, when he knew it would be worth his time. Or were the two more interchangeable than he thought?KILL OR BE KILLED