I love the way that your heart breaks
with every injustice and deadly fate.
He is marked as a disciple of the Dark God, a brand upon his forehead for all the world to see. He had been shaped and remade into an image more fitting, and he had thanked Him for it. Of course he answers the call. He is a true believer.
It is not often Raelynx is so readily stirred to action. He cares so little for anything. Only the promise of pain and suffering can draw him from his slumberous wanderings. The tale of Pangea risen is intriguing, stirring a faint thought to return. But it is not until the voice of his God rings through his head that he takes action.
He does not rush like the others. Haste is not something he understands well. He has always been a master of the slow and purposeful, the patience of a teacher (even if what he teaches is derived from god-forsaken nightmares). And so when he arrives in the dank and murky land so recently risen from the sea, his stride is steady, purposeful. His dull gaze surveys the land, his ravaged ears flicking about his skull until the sound of battle becomes a sweet music in the air. He follows it, attention now fixed. Focused on his purpose.
But Raelynx has never been of the brightest minds, and thus easily distracted. The battle to kill one man rages, but something else draws his attention. Two women, lonely and lovely and so terribly broken. He loves the broken things. It is the strongest ones who shatter the most prettily. And he knows, they could be beautiful. His dark god calls, but their suffering calls louder.
So when he turns towards them, it is not duty that inspires him. Though, in the end, perhaps it is for a reason he had spotted them. Perhaps his God had needed his attention here, to distract them from their pitiful attempts at life-saving.
A macabre grin stretches his pitted and broken lips as he flows from walk to lope. He allows the fire loose, his flames hungrily devouring his blackened, scarred skin until he is a creature of heat and avarice. And so, he charges them. He would crash into them, searing and burning their skin as he did so. Perhaps they would move, but they are distracted. So beautifully distracted trying to save such a pitiful life. He does not slow as he barrels into them, instead using dull teeth to snap and tear, heavy hooves striking with the force of his massive frame and hurtling weight. He would bring them down if he could. Would tear and rend and burn. Would teach them the meaning of suffering. Would show his God the beauty of his latest broken creations.
Raelynx