Honeyed Pasture villain

@Drakonis

The afternoon sky was washed in the stormy grey he'd become accustomed to in winter moons - clouds hung like fog above the fields, breaths of frost sitting in anticipation for the birth of spring. A monster prowled amongst the frozen grass then, a smudge of dark silver slithering through the undergrowth and darting eyes of glacial beryl across the horizon - crimson stained his muzzle, pool of blood coating his incisors; the blood of a coyote, who's body had been shredded and left to rot some paces back.

Life was tough - to survive, you simply had to be tougher.

Aries had travelled enough to be familiar with the terrain, and there were few locations untouched by the demon's claws. The pastures surrounding the Weald had been mapped out into his skull, and he glided across the white sea as though he were simply a ghost, a dark figment of one's shadowed imagination - a nightmare, with a snaking tongue. His lips parted to allow movement, wiping the stains from his mouth before continuing on.

He much preferred the mystery of the woods.