Although the Dark Hunter was having his fun torturing the man that was responsible for cursing his little girl to becoming something unholy, he was satisfied in some small way, that she would become useful one day. There were some Weres that their species made them unworthy to keep alive, while other species could be trainable. Calliel was lucky that she was turned into a creature that could be useful to the Council and to the other Dark Hunters that roamed the world. She could be protected by his kind, she could be taken care of by the others, and sever in the cavalry, and she could be chosen to be with one of the leaders and not see the front lines of the battlefield â€" if she stepped in line. If she didn't, well, she would be used in another way, one in which he had no intention of seeing her in. All these dark thoughts bounced around in the back of his mind, as he left the cage that held the beasts that recently became a part of his collection. They were patched up, healed, and served him now. He could hear the muffled sounds of the werehorse from the other compartment, his ebony eyes rolling as he attempted to try and encourage the broken werewolf. After everything he had heard about her, he found her not as threatening as others warned him about, finding her trembling frame evidence that she would be no problem at all for him tonight. Perhaps he could spare her and use her too.

Heavy footsteps banged heavily into the ground, each sound a promise that his presence would soon arrive. Eventually he would arrive and raise his hand to press the button, allowing the door to rise. He would move over and press another button, the chains that held the two were-creatures were slowly undone and they would slide back into their socket along the wall. Frost was far too wounded to retaliate and so he would not be a problem. Raven was far too broken to even try and step out of bounds and do anything to threaten his life. Both Were's were incapable of performing their powers upon him and so they were nothing more than sitting ducks, easy for the taking. With a menacing grin his eyes scanned the room, not finding Raven anywhere, but also not truly carrying. After all she wasn't a threat, but his eyes did fall to where Frost laid, battered and slashed up. Easily he walked through and stood in front of Frost, easily kicking the male in the ribs, enjoying the way the male looked so defeated. Ah this was absolutely so much fun. He had done so many terrible things and yet it would seem that it was he who was capable of defeating him. Boy this would be a fun story to retell again and again.

"Now then before we continue the fun, I am in need of something, quite valuable and if I don't get an answer I like, then I'll skin you both alive until you answer correctly."

To make his point he lifted up a buck knife, fixed with blade that held a guthook at the end of it. After all he could skin them and yet that particular gut could be dug anywhere within their body to pull and yank their innards, if only to cause them more agonizing pain and him with absolute sinister pleasure. With his other hand he pulled out a titanium chain, that at the end of it held a particular medallion that had similar carvings but on it was the image of a carved raven with its wings outspread. As he held it out and calmly began to inquire just whether or not Frost had any of the medallions, already knowing that if he didn't he would be more than happy to shove the knife within his stomach. Smoothly he begins, his eyes trained only on Frost, ignoring Raven entirely.

"Mr. Rixon I hear you are searching for them, do you have any of them? I already have the raven, but Miss. Clocksworth you have the wolf...can you plea-ARUGH"

The Dark Hunter suddenly felt a sharp pain that was above his arm and below it, right near his shoulder blade. It caused him to drop the medallion next to Frost, his entire focus on the beast that held his arm in her powerful jaws. Without hesitation he swung his other arm to stab the wolf neatly underneath her neck, stabbing her again in the chest, trying to force the canine to release her. When he felt the sharp teeth leave his body, he took a step back, falling as a massive paw swung and smacked him down into the ground, causing in some fashion the knife he held to fall into his own chest. Angered he rolled over to his side to relive the pain, trying to get himself to stand, he watches as both his victims leave, with the raven medallion gone on the floor. With a struggle he stumbles to the outside of the cage, he presses buttons as one of the compartments open, as the doors to the bunkers open as well. Spitting out blood he watches as the red lights flash and the sirens scream, alerting the others that there was trouble here, clutching his side he hollered, his voice echoing down the corridor.

"Damn, you bitch......Fenrir, sic'em."