Kurou had halted his footing adjacent to a neglected warehouse. The potent smell of oil and grease infiltrating his nose was not the core of his intrest, rather, he had felt a living presence prickle his nape, bringing his awareness to a pair of eyes. The choleric amber orbs glowered at him, ablaze with the ferocity of a frightened animal. Their owner, crouched, with hackles raised, and tension building in the muscles of its legs like a coil. The small feline was prepared to leap at any moment, either to launch itself in fight or flight. Every hair stood on end as the kitten bristled with wariness, eyes never faltering in their hateful glare. Playful garbs of curiosity piqued Kurou's attention. As Kurou approached, its lips pulled back to bare fangs, small body hunching inward to itself to shape an arch. Another step closer in closing the distance, the kitten discharged a snarl like a low warning siren. It had deemed Kurou as a threat and stood on itâs defense, it would not permit him to come any closer.
Steadily lowering his body, Kurou squatted, supporting his weight on the balls of his feet. Edging his body mass forward, Kurou extended an arm from his elbow. He offered his hand to the kitten, idle fingers curled in a loose fist, an act of passive contact to pacify the animal's apprehension. The kitten however lashed out, powering its attack with the momentum of it's lunge. Unsheathed claws lanced his wrist and lukewarm sensation pooled to the area of infliction. Instinctually Kurou's arm recoiled, withdrawing to his chest. A single rivulet of dripping crimson welled from the scratch. Raising his arm aloft Kurou brought his mouth to press against his skin, blood melding his lips to his wrist. Slipping from his mouth, came his forked tongue to slither over his forearm, lapping at the cut. Salvia probed the incision, and diluted the keen shade of red to pink as it mingled with his blood. As the metallic-sweet sensation of flavor seeped gradually into his taste buds, Kurou let his arm fall into place at his side. Kurou hauled himself to a stand, In the mind of the kitten his swelling hight was understood as a semblance of asserting dominance. It backed up, inch by inch, the looming shadow of the wear house nipping at its rear.
As though imbued with a sudden energy Kurou brushed aside the flank of his shirt to reveal a gun holster at his hip and drew the handgun from its confines in a single fluid movement. His fingers innately seeked the shallow impressions of the silhouetted grip, his index finger adjusted to curl around the trigger, but refrained in touching it. He was vaguely aware of the snags caused from the rough patches of paint rubbing against his palm. The handgun seemed to click into place as he trained it on the kitten, he anticipated the connect of the bullet. Easing his finger tip into contact with the cold metal of the trigger, he simultaneously flicked up the safety with his thumb.
The air reverberated with the echo of an earsplitting rattle. A mild pressure remained laden upon his ears even as the explosion of sound ebbed. His fingers welcomed a familiar numbness to fan through them, seemingly allowing it to reach his brain as the same numbness dribbled down his conciseness. The kitten's body had already collapsed, an island of matted black fur in the small sea of red. The steady current flushed from the location of it's former amber eyeball, reduced to resemblance of a fleshy pomegranate. Kurou crouched once again, this time there was no rebuke to reject his extended hand. His fingers gingerly skimmed an area unadulterated with gore. Still warm. The corpse would continue to mimic the body temperate of the living until the heat in its core would dissipate.
Perhaps he shouldn't have wasted a bullet.
