do you think God stays in his heaven because he, too, lives in fear of what he has created?
Anaxarete does not allow her otherworldly hounds to chase and hunt with Ghaul, and so he is alone as he slinks through the meadow on this clear winter evening. He lifts his head to sniff the air in search of something, anything that smells like it might be fun to stalk. His half-grown horns curl from his strangely handsome face in place of any eyes. In the dying light of the day, the stars shine gold across the horns like some regal crown fit for a trueborn heir. But he does not know whether he is ugly or beautiful. His only concern is always the thrill of crushing windpipes and the faint scent of other predators nearby. Today, there is something new carried on the breeze and he feels his lips curl back in a smile that is all teeth.
His leathery wings briefly spread as an excited shiver runs down the boney ridge of his spine and then he’s off, chasing this scent to its source. The drake’s legs are longer and more muscled now as he strides over the tall meadow grasses. Ghaul has even traded in his little newborn fangs for deeply rooted ones now, sizeable enough to give pause to even the fiercest adversary. But perhaps this new, strange thing will not hesitate. Maybe it can make his jaws and pierce these armored scales. What would it be like to bleed, he wonders? He finds himself delighted at the thought and rushes faster, faster toward the setting sun.
The world rushes by him in a blur of deep navy blues and the occasional shade of green but there is nothing warm nearby. His talons tear up the ground beneath him with each bounding step, kicking up dirt behind him. Let his trail be clear and obvious, so that his prey may find him first. A vile tongue runs over his lips as he skids to a stop near the edge of the meadow where the tall trees rise up to form a border between this area and the forest. With his ears turned forward, he listens carefully for the sound of any footsteps crunching in the snow as he pants heavily. His breath leaves his thin nostrils in great puffs of air while his body heat radiates from him in a thick steam.
He croons softly, a pleasant noise which he has learned tends to draw others near. The boy tries to keep his body relaxed so as not to give his intentions away just yet. Ghaul has learned he must be clever to best worthy prey, just as Ana taught him.
@[sochi] it's fine if she pounces him. he'll just be like "OH BOY, MY SEXUAL AWAKENING!"