GHAUL
i can take you there, but baby, you won't make it back
He had only intended to take the baby as a birthday gift for Clarissa, a little child for her to practice mothering. The black and gold creature had followed him and done his best to fight off the chimera. It was a noble effort! But reading Ghaul’s thoughts gave him no insight to his next moves as the boy moves purely on instinct. When Malone dived in for a kick, it had been so easy to meet him with waiting talons that dragged him to the ground. His wing snapped as easily as Jenova’s but this one he decided to leave attached.
Ghaul remembers what it felt like to crush his face into the spring mud with one awful set of claws as the boy struggled. “Follow,” he had commanded, and then he herded them off to the canyons of Pangea. Malone obeyed with one drooping wing hanging limp over his side but he isn’t sure where the child has gone off to.
When he sees Clarissa waiting for him at the border, he grins eagerly and skitters forward to meet her, draping his leathery wings over her in a soft embrace. His captive hesitates but follows after him, one eye swollen shut and terribly bruised beneath the brilliant gold of his handsome face. Ghaul croons softly and kisses at the curve of his twin flame’s jaw before gesturing to the silent shadow behind him.
“I took captives from Nerine, and two from Loess,” he explains excitedly. “You can eat his wings if you want. The other Loessian is a fresh baby for us to practice.”
Malone’s uninjured eye narrows and he takes a step back as realization begins to dawn on him – talons, torn wings, and a hunger for torment. He grows dizzy and his captor takes note of the way he begins to sway. Ghaul snorts and assumes he is weak from his battery and the journey. “Go find a corner to lick your wounds. I’ll find you, where ever you go,” he warns, his tone frigid until he turns back to his darling wife. “The little baby is so small and fragile. I like him.”
Ghaul remembers what it felt like to crush his face into the spring mud with one awful set of claws as the boy struggled. “Follow,” he had commanded, and then he herded them off to the canyons of Pangea. Malone obeyed with one drooping wing hanging limp over his side but he isn’t sure where the child has gone off to.
When he sees Clarissa waiting for him at the border, he grins eagerly and skitters forward to meet her, draping his leathery wings over her in a soft embrace. His captive hesitates but follows after him, one eye swollen shut and terribly bruised beneath the brilliant gold of his handsome face. Ghaul croons softly and kisses at the curve of his twin flame’s jaw before gesturing to the silent shadow behind him.
“I took captives from Nerine, and two from Loess,” he explains excitedly. “You can eat his wings if you want. The other Loessian is a fresh baby for us to practice.”
Malone’s uninjured eye narrows and he takes a step back as realization begins to dawn on him – talons, torn wings, and a hunger for torment. He grows dizzy and his captor takes note of the way he begins to sway. Ghaul snorts and assumes he is weak from his battery and the journey. “Go find a corner to lick your wounds. I’ll find you, where ever you go,” he warns, his tone frigid until he turns back to his darling wife. “The little baby is so small and fragile. I like him.”