Lone Star Mountain #newdaynewme

The girl was wary, but it was a rightful wariness, for she did not understand that she was facing the devil. And he faced her with such a chilling light on his features that he was not certain she would remain for very long. The girl asked him what was wrong and he parted his lips, lower jaw quivering in a melodramatic nature, coaxing the whimper from the back of his throat. “I've twisted my ankle, miss,” he mewled. “I am very hungry.” As if to accent this remark, the piebald creature pulled his stomach in to protrude his ribs; on his stilted limbs he looked razed. Then, with an exasperated sigh, the brute turned to peer at the mountain where he stood and his limbs quivered sadly. Flattening his ears to the top of his skull, Ithrik frowned.

“The mountain is such a dangerous place.” The thought of her tender flesh against his tongue was driving him wild, and in that sense, he had not been lying to her; he was starved. The taste of her would satisfy him for a short time, but he wondered just how long... how long could he feast on her and how long would she remain before she could scent the rancid aroma of decay that clung to his very form...