Wolfgang von Vegas is torn and conflicted. On the one hand, there are things to kill that try to fight him and are fun to tear apart. On the other hand, he can't get out of the town and he feels trapped. This and the conflict itself is making him angry and frustrated. Also, the flying things and dog-like things are not good to eat.
He's topless, now, and the blonde hair covering his shoulders and part of his back is splattered with blood, but it's mostly concentrated around his mouth and hands.
But Wolfgang is not another monster, and turning the flashlight off enhances his own advantage. He doesn't need the light to smell the purpletreblegrey smell of the human, and he doesn't care about trees: the woods are his world.
The only thing holding him back is his front paw: he's limping quite severely as he bounds forward, but he's gaining fast.
This is more like it. No sooner have the clicks started sounding, but a blur of fur and teeth and claws descend on him. Wolf doesn't go straight tfor the throat, but it's not long before he does.
He eats his fill, and leaves the rest to be found.
He's topless, now, and the blonde hair covering his shoulders and part of his back is splattered with blood, but it's mostly concentrated around his mouth and hands.
He's dealing with his frustration with violence.
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The only thing holding him back is his front paw: he's limping quite severely as he bounds forward, but he's gaining fast.
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He empties the clip in the direction of the golden-furred streak.
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He growls again and lunges around the tree, teeth bared.
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He eats his fill, and leaves the rest to be found.
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