there is a particular silence that lingers after death, deeper than any other quiet. there is blood on his teeth and his lips as he stands there, driving the hunger in the pit of his stomach, but caw has ignored louder before. he breathes in the thick smells of organs and copper that stick like a half-chewed meal in the back of his throat, and for a moment he stands there, looking every bit like the crow he is named after.
it is not until he hears the crunch of paws on the snow that he moves. even then, at first, it is not much; a curious twist of his ears that only becomes his whole body when avis lets out a sharp, rattling caw. in the pale light, his eyes gleam like raw blood, settling on the sleek black figure trotting past; he lifts his head when he sees her, tail curving thoughtfully up towards his back, feathers threaded into the nape of his neck on full display.
he waits, eagerly, for her to turn, to notice the doe, to move towards him in challenge. but when she does glance his way, her eyes the deep blue of early morning, she gives him only a brief nod, does not even pause in her steps as she continues moving past and further afield.
caw blinks, briefly lost. what right does she have to ignore him?
the thought pricks indignantly at him, and he prowls forward and through the doe’s ruined ribcage, the tangle of organs and blood and rapidly-cooling meat. his teeth are sheathed neatly behind his lips but he makes no effort to hide his naturally-predatory stalk, nor the curious flick of his ears, the upraised curl of his tail.
“hello,” caw says brightly as he nears her. his steps slow, but his stare is unwavering, the thrill of a potential fight growing in his blood. it has been too long since he has had a challenge; and for someone, a woman, to step past so casually, to dismiss him, would perhaps make him angry, if he was one to feel such things.
as it is, it excites him. for a moment, the constant overbearing calm gives way to prickling interest. he will not let her simply walk past.
it is not until he hears the crunch of paws on the snow that he moves. even then, at first, it is not much; a curious twist of his ears that only becomes his whole body when avis lets out a sharp, rattling caw. in the pale light, his eyes gleam like raw blood, settling on the sleek black figure trotting past; he lifts his head when he sees her, tail curving thoughtfully up towards his back, feathers threaded into the nape of his neck on full display.
he waits, eagerly, for her to turn, to notice the doe, to move towards him in challenge. but when she does glance his way, her eyes the deep blue of early morning, she gives him only a brief nod, does not even pause in her steps as she continues moving past and further afield.
caw blinks, briefly lost. what right does she have to ignore him?
the thought pricks indignantly at him, and he prowls forward and through the doe’s ruined ribcage, the tangle of organs and blood and rapidly-cooling meat. his teeth are sheathed neatly behind his lips but he makes no effort to hide his naturally-predatory stalk, nor the curious flick of his ears, the upraised curl of his tail.
“hello,” caw says brightly as he nears her. his steps slow, but his stare is unwavering, the thrill of a potential fight growing in his blood. it has been too long since he has had a challenge; and for someone, a woman, to step past so casually, to dismiss him, would perhaps make him angry, if he was one to feel such things.
as it is, it excites him. for a moment, the constant overbearing calm gives way to prickling interest. he will not let her simply walk past.
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Messages In This Thread
like winter we are cruel - by Krár - March 01, 2018, 07:34 PM
RE: like winter we are cruel - by Hydra - March 01, 2018, 07:47 PM
RE: like winter we are cruel - by Krár - March 01, 2018, 10:16 PM