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Description
The Hellhound shivered with hunger. Born of the Damned Souls, it and its Master patrolled the gothic street of Dovraga, a task they were created for eons ago.
The burning sensation, the thrill of the scream of the innocent, never stopping yet always fuming. The Hellhound smells death, distant but always present.
The Master pulls on the leash, directing and controlling the beast. Or so she thinks, as the hound only grows more hungry, more enraged.
Ages passed since they last ate a Soul. The hound growls and yells, but the master never answers with food. Only directions and pulls of the leash.
Consumed by hunger, they wander the streets, never to find another Soul.
For Hell is dead.

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Description
The Hellhound shivered with hunger. Born of the Damned Souls, it and its Master patrolled the gothic street of Dovraga, a task they were created for eons ago.
The burning sensation, the thrill of the scream of the innocent, never stopping yet always fuming. The Hellhound smells death, distant but always present.
The Master pulls on the leash, directing and controlling the beast. Or so she thinks, as the hound only grows more hungry, more enraged.
Ages passed since they last ate a Soul. The hound growls and yells, but the master never answers with food. Only directions and pulls of the leash.
Consumed by hunger, they wander the streets, never to find another Soul.
For Hell is dead.

COMMISSION INFO
SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS