Biography
"What is it?" the she-wolf whispered, lifting her head to gaze into Predator's gleaming eyes.
"There isn't room for you," he growled, his lip curling dangerously.
The black she-wolf skittered to her feet, ears laid back in fear. *But he's different!* she wailed inside. *He isn't awful at all! Why are you afraid!*
Predator put one heavy paw down in front of him, face curdling into a snarl full of hate. "You made a mistake. Now you will pay for it."
Shea's shrieks filled the night air, rising and falling like an unsteady heartbeat.
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There were no circumstances in his life that could have made Predator so vicious. He has only his state of mind and free will to blame, and those he already has complete control over.
He bloodies his jaws because it pleases him to be feared and revered.
However, the moment he stepped into Silver Tongue's territory, he made a mistake. He misjudged how absolutely unafraid the pack would be of him. Many of the wolves were trained extremely well, and they made a force to be reckoned with when met in battle. Predator was kept on his toes by Craft and Rage alone, and adding Silver Tongue, Nightling and Silk to the mix completely overwhelmed him. The fierce wolf was infuriated that a single pack could subdue him so easily, and he began attacking their camp nightly, becoming the terror that Fireheart used to keep Bloodspill from wandering.
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The two wolves circled eachother warily, eyes wandering to the other's paws.
"What have you come here for?" Predator snarled softly, keenly aware of the sharp bloodlust in his opponent's eyes.
Craft blinked slowly, lifting his head slightly. "Silver has asked me to come talk sense to you." he rasped icily, teeth flashing in the autumn darkness. "Or would you rather talk with our fangs?" He lifted his lip in a blatant challenge, but his body remained still and calm.
Predator breathed out a small sigh, stepping back. "I've felt your teeth once already tonight." he said reluctantly, taking one step back.
Craft chuckled, dipping his head. "Very well. Ask your questions, then."
Predator bristled. "What makes you think I have any questions to ask you?" he snarled, immediately regretting his impulsive action.
Craft lunged at the dusky wolf, gouging a deep crescent into his cheek before leaping away. "Never again doubt me, blood sucker," he snarled, the fur all along his back standing straight up. "Every lone bastard has questions to ask a pack wolf."
Predator flicked an ear uncertainly. "Wh-" He bit his tongue and tasted the strong tang of blood, gripping it tightly between his teeth. His jaws quickly filled with blood and began to spill into his fur.
Craft swished his tail, amused by the lone's determination not to ask questions. "We have teamwork. We get along while you tear down those that could support you. You're a storm waiting for calm. Try pack life. It will satisfy you."
Predator glared at Craft, lifting his teeth from it's hurtful distraction to bare his teeth at the sleek wolf. "I'd rather die!"
Craft's eyes snapped delightfully, and was on the heavyset wolf in an instant.
Predator yelped, falling back as he felt his fur being savagely ripped from his pelt. Craft wasted no time enjoying the vital fluid seeping through his teeth, as Predator so enjoyed doing. It felt as if five devils were tearing the lone apart, ripping him where it hurt the most.
"Craft!" A smooth voice snapped. "That's enough!"
The previous beta stepped backwards reluctantly, eyes gleaming and jaws dripping.
Rage frowned disgustedly at the wet fur sticking to Craft, and the wolf quickly shook out his pelt, dipping his head respectfully to the old Alpha.
"Fighting us will gain you nothing." Rage growled, green eyes hard as he stood over the wounded wolf. "Leave or join us. Your options could not be plainer. We need your answer now."
Predator gasped for breath, lightheaded and dizzy. "I'll-come with-you," he coughed out, trembling.
Rage nodded sagely, as if he had known what the lone's answer would be the whole time. "Very well. Salem and River will tend to you tonight, but never forget what you have learned here." he said gravely, stepping back as the orange and black wolves slunk out of the trees to Predator's side.
Breeding Info
N/A
| Personality
Completely deadly. He has no redeeming quality, save that of his lovely fangs.
He smiles at the sight of dead bodies, and not many can stop him.
He so resents these wolves he is forced to live with. They do not fear him, just treat him like a curious trophy to be careful with.
But all of his days and all of his focus is on Craft. He learns pack skills from the unforgiving wolf, and enjoys their sessions immensely.
Many of his habits have remained the same, unfortunately, and Craft has left his share of scars on the wolf's face.
Silver Tongue isn't high in Predator's respect, but Rage is in Craft's, and Rage wants the pack to go 'round and learn from new Alphas. What Rage wants, Craft wants, and what that unnerving wolf wants the killer wants.
Preferences
Complete terror
Those things you see in the night
They say aren't true
But how would they know
They don't stay up as late
As we do.
Special Skills
A literal lady killer
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Summer 
Day Weather: 
Earthquake
