Phantom Hollow They’re trying to find it in someone

Yooo omg your writing is so good!

The chase continues through the wading water. Most of a dark brindled coat is soaked through, revealing thick, rippling muscle underneath. He expects to catch her soon and with the confidence of a thousand suns, his legs move faster, his paws take further strides even as the water weighs them down.

Until more splashing hits his ears and even the reaper himself becomes curious as to why the deer halts so suddenly. A sneer crosses his own scarred visage and a snarl wrinkles whiskered lips as well as show a deadly set of teeth that have already taken too many souls to count. 

And just ahead of the predator and prey, lies a second hunter. A man just as large and battle hardened as Alduin himself. Such a sudden appearance gives him mixed feelings. A harsh rush of territorial irritation crosses his mind and he even contemplates snapping at the other, even though it appears he might be helping. Though Alduin is rash at times, he knows he cannot let his prey get away. Even in the presence of another. And if the other ends up attempting to steal his food, then he will treat him the same as the deer. Simple as that.

So when he finally acts, large, black paws skid to a slippery halt against the stony visage of the rivers bottom. Claws dull against the onslaught of pebbles and moss covered rocks, but eventually he catches his footing and shifts his angle to snap out at the fumbling creature. 

His paws splash water as he lunges, head lowered and aiming for the animals hind legs. Then, a snap of his jaws… 

Nothing.

Saliva and water drip from shimmering black lips and snarling maw, a growl rumbles from his throat as hot pools of lava zero in on his prey. More splashes of water and the smell of panic permeate the air as death falls right onto the deers heels. Finally, he lunges once more, all while keeping an occasional eye on the scarred stranger. 

This is the feeling he’s been waiting for. The glory of victory starts early, with a hard thump and a splash, the deer is knocked into the river, barely able to keeps her head above water. Her spindly legs kick out, they strike him in a muscular, barreled chest, but it does little to keep the hellhounds teeth away. 

Very little in fact.

He moves over his target, four strong limbs caging her in as the river rushes over her. She screams as Alduin drops his head partly into the water to snatch up her neck. A soaked pelt ripples with muscle as he throws his body into a harsh shake that produces a dull cracking sound from the poor animal. Her screams die out, her body breathes no longer, her legs unable to kick to defend herself. She’s gone, ready to be devoured.

The hellhound, soaked to the bone, drops her body back into the shallows of the river while crimson drops from a black tongue. Said tongue lulls from a dripping maw to pant, ribs soft expand and shrink as he breathes. And just like that, he remembers that he has company. 

Lowering his head once more, the hellhound laps at his muzzle and slips a tongue over bloodied teeth. Those hellfire red eyes meet the others own, also a deep crimson, just like his own. A low growl falls from a slightly low anting maw.

“I hope you don’t plan to steal it.” He warns lowly, making a show of eyeing him down from head to toe. “You might end up just like her.” But perhaps the other male might find the soft sarcasm laced into his voice at the end. Or perhaps he won’t and another fight will break out. One can only wait and see.