Silverlight Terrace the devil has the power to assume a pleasing shape

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when the other male makes his appearance, melting out of the thick fog with a question breaching the silence that exists between them with a question, ailill turns to him and wonders if he's a trick of the fog and moonlight. he's not close enough yet for ailill to pick out specific things about his appearance but he assumes his pelage must be quite dark and notes that there is something misshapen about his stature. his spine appears haunched and it distorts his size so that the stranger appears small compared to the blackthorn. as strange as it looks, all ailill can do is wonder if it's painful. of course, having never seen anyone quite like the stranger before it draws the blackthorn's eye despite the hunter's best attempts to not be rude and stare.

in the end, ailill shrugs off the deformity as he focuses his gaze on the stranger's face and the question he's left unanswered. yeah, i could go for a good hunt. he responds casually. as it was, it's been a while since he's eaten anything he'd called a decent meal. being a lone wolf meant he had to conserve his energy and tackle smaller prey that was easier for a single wolf to catch. it meant he had to hunt more to sate his full hunger and keep him from appearing malnourished. man, i could really go for a nice plump, juicy deer. he was salivating just thinking about it. he wasn't sure if that's what his newfound companion had in mind but at this point just the idea of being able to hunt something substantial was temptation enough.