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The light of life appeared through Necros' shadowy vision toward the horizon. Certainly, everything here in the forest was alive, but the presence of another wolf, that was something noteworthy. That was something that his cursed vision would tell him with intense clarity. Green eyes narrowed, and the zombie dragged his dried tongue over the bone of his face, and across to decaying flesh. Ear pricked forward as the light came closer, and he began to make out features of the wolf approaching.

Ah. It was familiar.

The sight of the green one brought back a flood of memories to the cursed shaman. Tang of iron on his lips, slashes of crimson on the ground and the chorus of chaotic howls that meant his pack was feeding again, drawing their life force from the deaths of anything, everything. Once upon a time, he had been unstoppable. Necros' maw wrenched into a grin that faded quickly. That had been so long ago. His ear swiveled forward, pawfalls had gone silent, the light had stopped moving.

"Necros..." A hissed word hit his ear as though it were a gunshot. So, it was one who had gotten away. The evil shaman picked through his mind as he strode forward to meet this other wolf, slowly becoming aware of the others power as he approached. Remaining fur down his back came to a point that reached for the sky. Now he remembered! But this one wouldn't know him as he was now, no. The sight of walking undeath would be new to Oberon, the curse bestowed on the zombie shaman had been later than that.

Half of his former self, Necros finished his approach to stand well within the view of the other. A wretched, decaying grin marred already grotesque features as glowing eyes stared at the wolf he had only known when it was very young. The earth around the zombie died as he stood there, the magical curse holding him together refused to give up a chance to make itself stronger.

"You. I knew we should have chased you down." The life that clung so tightly to Oberon almost hurt his devillish eyes. "We ate your whole family that day." Complete with a stomach turning grin, for emphasis. "I can still taste their blood in the memories."

It hadn't been the love of death that had made him this way. It was the interference of one she-wolf. Necros had charmed her into believing he would change for her, that he loved her. It had been so beautiful, the first time she had realized what he was. A bubbling ghost of a laugh made its way past the wet skull that was Necros' muzzle. It grew and multiplied until it became a cackle, then it died off.

"I may not have gone hunting in what feels like a lifetime, but look at the damage that still remains. Do you even remember your family?" Prodding the other shaman. Come closer, fool. Necros attempted to push his aura of death outward. He imagined the hazy black tendrils pressing against Oberon, brushing that green pelt, sending ice through the other wolf's veins.

He wasn't anywhere near sure it would work. These particular powers were new to him, untested, though he firmly believed they were more than he was giving them credit for.

The grinding of a low growl slipped through bare jaw, an extra undertone of a hiss added as the air passed unhindered past Necros' teeth. "Even if I could lie down and die, I never would. Its only a matter of time, pup, before I gather fellows again. This time, I'll be stronger than ever. The immortal leader of a band of wolves as bloodthirsty as I. They'll be begging me to drain them rather than let the pack tear into them, abuse their females, steal the puppies." Glowing green orbs narrowed nearly to slits. "I bet, if I eat you, I might even regain some of my body, so that the women are falling at my feet again."

"Really now." The undead shaman spit the words as though they were decorated with venom. He felt the life force of Oberon push on him, but the void surrounding him seemed to enjoy it, pluck at the edges of the blossoming grass like it was a snack. Still, that light. It burned his eyes. Villainous glare stared through slits of animated skull in order for the creature to focus.

"You're a failure. Your family died howling for your help." More acid. Necros took a step forward. "You were just a young thing, helpless and afraid as we swept over your den. Why would they live on in you?" The ground at the zombie's feet blackened as he continued to leer at Oberon.

Though the other's statements about females were true. Well, almost. One had stayed and talked with him, though she was just about as insane as it got. She had been vicious and gloriously intelligent and beautiful, and he hadn't gotten enough time with her to pursue her. "Times change, but the core of the universe stays the same. Hatred, evil, and most importantly a lust for power surge through some wolves as strongly now as it did then. They just need a way to focus that drive." Bone clacked against bone as the zombie grinned. He was wise enough to know that shimmers of vileness lurked within most creatures, begging for a reason to get out. Knowing that there were already whole packs of individuals already like himself would have been a wonderful extra, but ultimately unnecessary.

"And if a female won't come to me for lust, I'll settle for fear of death. It motivates just as well, if not better. Even the chance at being spared could have them crawling on their bellies into my den, begging for it." The years and his predicament apparently hadn't stopped his desire to inflict living nightmares on others.

"Females will do whatever it takes to save their own skins, and more importantly, their wretched pups." He stared menacingly at nothing in particular, knowing that, in at least one case, Oberon was right. Damn that b***h. But that was past, and now it was time to provoke this younger shaman. "You know, its a shame we got your pack so quickly, I bet your mother would have been fun for a few nights."

Necros wanted so badly to touch him. To finally close the narrowing gap between them and wrap Oberon up in an embrace, to sap that delicious, life giving power from his body until his skin clung to his bones and his soul was gone. The zombie licked the remnants of his maw, drool slipping from between his teeth.

"So you aren't the little pup anymore." A tiny step forward, almost unnoticeable shuffle. "You've grown, gotten more powerful." Another shuffle. Oh! Would he back away? Necros didn't have the ability to run the other down if he fled, not yet. It had been too long since his last kill. "More delicious. Perhaps, perhaps I'm glad we let you live."

Necros smirked, and continued his advance. God, it was blinding. He could have shut his eyes and still seen Oberon bright as day. In fact, he did finally shut those glowing orbs. That life was trying to keep him away, bat him back with its brightness. The zombie started to feel a tingle on the tip of his muzzle. Was it trying to resurrect his dead and gone flesh? Or just put him back on the wheel of life and destroy him?

The evil shaman postured and threw all the remaining fur he could into a bristle, and raised his mangled tail. The remaining flesh on the creature's maw drew back to reveal every tooth in Necros' head, and he growled. "I failed? You ran, and we let you go. Honestly, you foolish little pup, if I had never let anyone survive, how would word of my ruthlessness spread? Who would have known to throw themselves at my paws and pray I was full enough already to spare them? Reputation can drive more fear than ripping a creature apart before its family." It was half true. Oberon had been powerful enough to get away then, but not to fight. Necros had decided not to pursue in case the adolescent had a last trick up his sleeve.

Necros focused on Oberon through closed eyes, his muzzle pointed right at the other male as if he didn't really need those glowing orbs in the first place, and called on his domain for the first time since he had been cursed with it. "Yessss," he hissed, "I can still tasssste it."

It was disgustingly ironic, this one young wolf who had fought so hard to save his family now stood before their slaughterer as a champion of life.

He wanted to smother that life. ******** light, it had to go. He felt as though his pack was still standing at his flanks, demanding the death, calling for it, howling in those wild voices. As though they hadn't been murdered in those final moments before his curse. A wicked blackness welled up in Necros, threatening to boil over, spill out of his mouth and scar the forest here forever. The zombie wolf bared his teeth in an expression only a corpse could manage. He would start his reclamation of tyranny by killing Oberon before he became too much of a threat.

"Let me show you." Necros flung his maw suddenly open, and threw his body in a haphazard lunge at the other shaman. One hold, that might just do it. If he could just wrap his teeth around this insolent little wretch he could watch that damn light dwindle, flicker and die.

At first, Necros threw back his head and howled a single laugh of confidence as the other wolf drew back, shaking. Even Oberon's new determination after regaining his sense and his lunge at the zombie didn't quite get a normal reaction. Maybe it was because Necros was already dead anyway.

Then Oberon had touched him.

The connection between the two of them hit Necros like a shock across the surface of his whole body. It didn't drain him or hurt really, but it left the zombie with a euphoric, almost dizzy sensation that clung to his skin and fur. His energy was slaked some, satisfied, and it had receded. With a wild snarl the evil wolf realized he would have to rely on old battle tactics more than new found connections with the dead. Still, the ghosts of his old comrades circled him in his shadowy vision, blackened wisps against the green background and pale light of the life of the forest. A battle circle. The loser, in those days, was dinner.

The vicious snarl emitted from Oberon's lips brought him back, focused him. A lunge, a snap of teeth in his direction, and Necros did indeed drop with the impact of the green wolf, both from the force and as a tactic. Bony maw drawn wide, the monster snapped at Oberon's legs as his paws scrabbled for footing. Claws sank into soft earth, murdering the grass as they passed, but all the while those bare teeth of his sought to grab hold of a limb. Maybe outright destroying Oberon wasn't an option, but Necros could at least teach him a bit of a lesson. Leave a little scar, in remembrance.