[quote pid='64209' dateline='1512361762']
He moved like a lynx. A hell-ridden cat whose fur was full of mange and maggots and flies were eating him from the inside out. You could see his ribs through the patches of ashy fur. He had no eyes to see as he groped his way - slithered, more like - through the trees, bending this way and that, his black acid tongue hanging out of his mouth while two sets of perfectly matched fangs dripped the black blood of an insane fox that he had dispatched of.
Deimos, it seems, has developed a taste for blood.
Though, in the days after Taiga, he had escaped handily while the rest of them suffered, and had left Gryffen and his ramshackle band to wile away their last days in the deciduous forests of the world. Fall was always his favorite time of year. The time of Dying. The world was cold and dark and wet, much like the nameless mares he chased in this season. Each one started out the same - They all said no - but by the end, they were all screaming his name.
And yet, the animal was not sated.
There is a thrumming. A thrumming buzzing sound that he cannot shake. As if someone or something is calling to him. It makes him hard and lusty and he yearns for the flesh and the death of another.
Even Thana, who normally could slake his lust, was not around for him to take his aggression out on.
And so the demon paces about angrily, hungrily, on all four paws, searching out that one thing that has eluded him.
And when he found it - by God he would silence the humming.
@[Zephyr]
He moved like a lynx. A hell-ridden cat whose fur was full of mange and maggots and flies were eating him from the inside out. You could see his ribs through the patches of ashy fur. He had no eyes to see as he groped his way - slithered, more like - through the trees, bending this way and that, his black acid tongue hanging out of his mouth while two sets of perfectly matched fangs dripped the black blood of an insane fox that he had dispatched of.
Deimos, it seems, has developed a taste for blood.
Though, in the days after Taiga, he had escaped handily while the rest of them suffered, and had left Gryffen and his ramshackle band to wile away their last days in the deciduous forests of the world. Fall was always his favorite time of year. The time of Dying. The world was cold and dark and wet, much like the nameless mares he chased in this season. Each one started out the same - They all said no - but by the end, they were all screaming his name.
And yet, the animal was not sated.
There is a thrumming. A thrumming buzzing sound that he cannot shake. As if someone or something is calling to him. It makes him hard and lusty and he yearns for the flesh and the death of another.
Even Thana, who normally could slake his lust, was not around for him to take his aggression out on.
And so the demon paces about angrily, hungrily, on all four paws, searching out that one thing that has eluded him.
And when he found it - by God he would silence the humming.
DEIMOS
cry ‘havoc’ and let slip the dogs of war…
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@[Zephyr]