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Post by johnny on Aug 8, 2008 13:06:56 GMT -5
Even lying down, the Wolfhound was quite the image - lanky, long legs splayed outwardly from his thick torso, box cranium resting on the beaten-dirt path with the blasé ease of one who thought this world belonged to him and only him. His fur was dark, thick, and rough - in both texture and a result of poor maintenance - and it gave the impression of being very hot, though the wolfhound didn't pant as he lounged and didn't seem the least bit uncomfortable, laying alongside the road despite the high summer temperatures.
You should get up,[/b] a voice known only to Heathen spoke. You are hungry.
"I'll eat when I'm ready," Heathen muttered to the voice, lips curling up to show large, sharp teeth - mostly white, but yellowed closer to the gums.
You should get up.[/b] You are hungry, it repeated. Robotic, insistent, irritating, and Heathen growled at its bothersome tone.
It kept saying it. The same words over, and over, and over in the same damned voice, the same damned inflection and volume and finally Heathen snapped, sitting up and closing his jaws around thin air and tearing into what he thought the voice to be. He growled and snarled and barked, alone, attempting to destroy that voice inside his head.
You should get up.[/b] You are hungry.
Heathen sighed.
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