[m] Take these broken wings

Moath · (This post was last modified: February 22, 2019, 12:13 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...

He wandered away from home. Away from the Family. It was temporary, a fleeting chance to go out and refurbish his fangs with a meal that wasn’t small prey. The Melonii has a taste for wolf on this filled closing afternoon of open opportunity. And he intended to hollow it as much as he could.

Scents skated over his scarred nares, all dancing in various threads, connected to various balls of energy that he knew he need not chase. They were small, rodent, rascal, things that would take too much energy to pursue, giving him very little reward but a partially sated bloodlust.

As the sun haunted the horizon, he moved on, a dark mass of torn fur, sluggish reaping muscles, swaying girth, a dark giant who's goal would soon align with success. He felt nothing but growing urge as he swaggered on, leading further into a dappled and darkening slowly of land.

It was then that it hit him, hours after his wander, his lethargic pace halted. A swooning strand tickled his mind, enticed it, and soon pulled. His urges followed, as the thread was not tinged with the scent of Melonii household, but of various others. Past thick orders of other scents, it lie just ahead. Thus he began his hunt anew, locking into the thread with a slightly hastened pace.

A body began to take shape, standing against the crisp light of the sleepy star, a silhouette to him. A gift, a four limbed and musky thread that led direct to the goal which he was sent to seek, to sedate, to usher into the Void of who he was.

Wasting no time, the hulking mass of wolf transitioned into a mountain of murder as he near miraculously swapped from lethargic to lethal and lighter than what he should have been. Maws trickled open and furthered their gates as he moved quick to pacify this energy, and soon they near seemed that of the tazmanian wolf’s. The knives raised high, as did he, and plunged for the unseeing woman.

And in silence, he waited.