Blackbeak Bluff dreams of gods and monsters

Watching her as she observes the sea and the crashing wakes below, he yearns for her company before deciding to spare her his face. When she lunges for him, he turns the destroyed canvas away to hide it as much as possible, even as she approaches with teeth armed - their bodies clashes and he still did not move other than to watch the woman with his one good side. Even in his attempt to hide the hideous side of himself, he could see the terror in her eyes.

And his soul sinks.

Our tradition continues, hm? He darkly teases, trying to alleviate the moment, that look in her eye. More often than not they meet through fangs and claws, it was almost expected now as he encounters Tundra, usually he himself as the aggressor. 

As she approaches to get a closer look, he continues to twist his features away. Ears flattened as he swallows several times, preparing for her judgment, for her wrath and disgust - and instead, he was met with rage. Rage for his loss. A cannibal. A simple explanation, his own gaze hardened at the thought, to think back at the moment. She was so close, he didn't know what to think of it, of what to do other than to sit there like a good boy and relish in the moment of closeness even if it were but brief and to gave on the horrors of his exposed wounds.

At this distance he could smell her... only her... only... her. Frowning, he began his own questions. You're without a pack again.