her wagon spokes made of long spinners' legs

Moath · (This post was last modified: April 02, 2019, 03:27 PM by Moath.)

There was nowhere left to go, nowhere left to run. Panic crept up my throat as I ran into yet another dead end, and realized he had led me here. Turning around, I found him...

The brute felt the air shift as they had been approached rather quickly- food from all sides came and sought their meaning for being their, wolves of various colors and possibly even various tastes.
Another drip landed between darkly webbed feet.

There was one who was particularly close to his Mother, and gaze drudged to the glaring male with a spark of staticky ideal in those near hidden orbs. Would he be first?

Energy slid to limbs- a shiny tar forelimb rose in the direction of the angered food-
but his Mother spoke.
The energy held, then released as it dissipated.
The limb dropped.
Should she have chosen to eat the male, she had unknowingly saved him for herself by talking. Nothing was to be done while she spoke. She would direct him to whom he could claim.

Lethargic gaze slid through their company, the glitter of his gaze skimming idle but voracious over each face. Moath passed over them all. Each only made his stomach clench, urges twisting his belly into a growl. They looked so delicious, delectable, easy to pull apart and inhale. The final female, almost...looked like Family.
the only distance in difference was the jewels of that she harbored.

His stomach halted its protest. But only for a second.
The words of the meeting were near lost on him as he regarded this woman further, even turning his gigantuan body to face hers as his curiousness grew. The dome began a slow tilt to the right as he tried to study the dark food...his mind trying to figure if the dark woman was food or not-food.

And in silence, he waited.