Dragoncrest Cliffs [m] salt plying

Why did he like it? 

Maybe it was the sense of worth over another being. One creature deemed food, unfit to continue life when another, more important grew hungry. 

But why did he like it? 

The flavor of blood, or the power that came with seeing something accept the reality that he alone held their future. The sharp pricks of teeth, the warmth of breath in fur. The feeling of a satiated appetite. 

But why did he like it? 

He didn’t know.

Maybe studying the process in a fictional environment allowed him to come to terms. Numb the extremities. Taking a life never went away. Taking a thousand lives normalized the first. And something normal warranted little afterthought, little reconsideration. Used teeth grew dull. If he could just feel normal.. make those thoughts go away. 

But he didn’t know. 

”Power,” he stated, somewhat sheepishly. “Seeing it in their eyes—the moment they know I could—will—kill them. You ain’t ever felt that when huntin’?”

It felt embarrassing when he said it... but, he couldn’t deny the truth. Hunting left him full, but not just in the belly. Hunger and power were intertwined. It was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.

He didn’t know which he craved more.