Silvertip Mountain thestral

he turned back as the boy began to cry, reveling in the terror of the plea to return home. astara lurked close; he cast her a desirous look, before his attention returned to their charge.
merrick, infected by the changing tone within the cave, stole back to the child’s side, an amiable expression attempting to cling to his features overtop the chilling madness that had emerged to wreak havoc.
”why didn’t mother come back for you?” merrick whispered, eyes burning into the fearful hazel gaze. ”perhaps she doesn’t want you to come home.”
indra indra indra 
i n d r a 
mommy
”call for her. go ahead. i want you to see if she’s going to come,” merrick invited, lapping feverishly at his dry lips as he peered down at the child. 
”NOW!” he thundered, snapping his jaws together just in front of his prisoner’s small face, saliva flying from the edge of his mouth.
to rend, to rip, to tear; yes yes yes yes but he must wait, wait, wait — the trembling returned while he hunched like a gargoyle next in front of the child, teeth bared, pupils dilated.