Honeyed Pasture we were like gods at the dawning of the world

♥!

Whether it was at his invitation or not Maera does not waste time setting upon the corpse to take from it what she will though before she tears into it’s flesh she incites for him to join her. She gives a bat of her lashes and flashes him a smile that causes the leviathan’s throat to constrict for a moment before he gives her a sage nod that expresses he will even before she adds the ‘please’. He looks down to the leg he has mauled, and tears a chunk from the corpse, savoring the succulent taste as it lingers upon his tongue and the tenderness of the elderly ungulate’s flesh. It is, admittedly, the best thing that Axolotl has eaten in quite some time. He is accustomed to a (mostly) seafood diet but to taste meat absent of the salt of the Sea is sometimes the most pleasing thing. On his journey to the coast he has survived on small prey, once in a great while stumbling across an abandoned elk, bear or deer corpse that has enough meat to satisfy him though those are rarities in and of themselves. Without the strength of a pack he is limited in food resources.

The leviathan eats until he is full and his stomach is well satisfied and he takes a few steps back from the corpse, salmon pink tongue drawing across his jowls to clean them of the blood he assumes that stains his muzzle (and likely teeth). “We work well together.” Axolotl compliments gesturing to the corpse. They had it relatively easy but still he thinks it is rare, nevertheless. He almost cringes at himself because as his role of Atlanian is very specific it does not leave for much downtime — at least in Nootka Sound when he trained as an apprentice it didn’t — and his small talk skills are not as eloquent as he perhaps would have liked them to be. Still, he is not sure how to hold a conversation with another that does not involve his faith or his deity.