Hoshor Plains and now, i crave it all

Flatter land stretched out. Ithrik followed the trail of the river upstream. The spindly fiend trotted at an even pace. The white fur along his shoulders and neck stood upward, spiking just so that it afforded him a bit of a ghastly appearance. The hound cared very little for how he appeared, as long as his limbs carried him through and he was capable of catching his next meal. A small herd of bison clopped their way about. He paid them very little mind; they were not his favored meal and he was not nearly skilled enough to down one alone.

Just as this thought trickled through his mind, the devil caught sight of a striking reddish figure. Her body moved and swayed in a tantalizing fashion. She seemed as though she was trained on the white bison that was mixed in with the herd. His titian gaze followed her to the mark for a moment before he decided to quickly scurry behind her.

Ithrik's long legs allowed him to close space without exerting any effort. His dark lips had gathered a trail of drool. With an inky mask held low to the earth, he stalked his prey and dreamed of what she would taste like. Her red hue made her even more enthralling. She would taste sapid and savory; he relished her perfume as he hunted her up the river.