=SUNSET=
~James Harper~
James blushed a bit at the question- he wasn't sure if he should respond playfully, or in defense of himself.
"I uh- I don't uh... well, I don't know anyone. Well, I mean, I know everyone, b-but not on a personal level or anything." James stuttered, realizing quickly he should've responded playfully. Maybe he still could?
"I mean, what would I even say to such a person? 'No cloud, no squall shall hinder us?'" James threw his arms at the setting sun with a welcoming gesture, acting as if he himself was Marcus in "I Want to Be Your Canary." The line was said almost simultaneously with a man on stage, who was assuming the role of Marcus himself. James laughed, heartily. More than he had in awhile. He'd been stuck in his room alone, only ever visiting town to shop or see plays. He never realized how without friends he was until he had met Vanitas, who offered to go to the stage with him.
Vanitas was a good guy. James was sure. He was scared at first, worried that Vanitas would attempt to convince him to ignore his Journal completely, and submerge the world in chaos.
The Journal.
James had almost forgotten. The smile left his face, his laughter died off.
"Vanitas. Thanks for coming with me." MEANWHILE
Hungry. Hungry. Starving. Starving. Eat.
The thoughts repeated in their heads. The pack together had been traveling the woods nearby the village for quite some time- a long time without food. The occasional rabbit or hawk was not enough to satisfy an entire pack of Wolves- much less the Keepers.
This group of seven lumbered through, breaking twigs, their black, melted ears twitching with every sound. Their dark blue eyes, shimmering even in the dark, could see every weak point on every animal near them- but with the village taking more care of cattle and sheep, eating was getting harder- and that wasn't the only thing making them hungry.
They continued, each molted leg of coal making a small stump with each step. Their faces were the same as all of their body- black, almost cooled lava texture. Their middle sections were made of an elastic none would be able to describe- they could turn their upper half completely around, as to attack with their clawed hands.
They were the realms toughest predators- and probably the most dangerous. That confidence carried in them. They could beat anyone. The could eat anything.
It was just ahead. A big, meaty creature, with a mane of grace. They could hear it's heartbeat. They could see through its skin, their eyes accessing every possible one-hit area. They grew impatient. They started huffing with anticipation, and began running, now on all fours instead of their usual two. The creature was a horse- a creature they didn't see often.
And they were starved.