Hoshor Plains she was beautiful, but nothing really was there

he sat upright, the cold wind wrapped around him. his posture remained motionless and he sat on the cold snowpack like some grim sentinel erected for cruel gods. his gaze was the only thing to betray his sentience -- it focused on the form of a small girl who had made her way up the trail unaware of his presence.

she lifted her head and caught sight of him; she froze. she reminded him of some cervine beauty, the thinness of her limbs -- the fragility of her conformation. even from this distance he could sense the overwrought nature of her fretful blue eyes.

he did not move. instead his dull gaze flickered to the hole as if the meat inside of it were somehow more enticing than the girl. in truth, it was not -- iliksis wanted nothing more than to drive down upon her and force her to the ground, to maim her features, to feel the warmth of her insides on the firm tip of his truest weapon -- he hid these desires well, darkly watching the hole with his features rigid.