03-17-2020, 12:20 PM
GHAUL
i can take you there, but baby, you won't make it back
Despite the northern kingdoms best efforts to keep him confined within their borders, he still finds time to roost in his own territory on many nights. And when he wakes, he rises and stretches much like a cat might. Talons grip the earth as he flexes the muscles of his wings and a long yawn slips from his lungs. The stars across his face and legs glimmer brightly in the morning sun when he finally stands upright, thin tail flicking left and right. The haze of sleep always makes him calm and approachable. This makes him more curious and welcoming when he sees Cynder approach his home.
Her shape might normally offend him when coupled with a sudden descent into the Cove but he approaches, relaxed and intrigued. He lifts his golden head and offers a brief series of clicks in greeting as his wings tuck to his sides. Clarissa is probably still dreaming so he does not call for her just yet. Instead, he circles the newcomer with a delighted purr rumbling from the depths of his throat. She smells of scales and smoke, which pleases him, but he assumes she is another shifter. This form is temporary – she can reach out and take beauty as it pleases her.
“Welcome to Silver Cove. I am Ghaul, lord of this territory and heir of Pangea,” he explains, tracing the outline of the ridge of spikes along her back as he speaks. “Who are you?”
And he smiles, rows of crooked crocodile fangs lining up to fill his face.
Her shape might normally offend him when coupled with a sudden descent into the Cove but he approaches, relaxed and intrigued. He lifts his golden head and offers a brief series of clicks in greeting as his wings tuck to his sides. Clarissa is probably still dreaming so he does not call for her just yet. Instead, he circles the newcomer with a delighted purr rumbling from the depths of his throat. She smells of scales and smoke, which pleases him, but he assumes she is another shifter. This form is temporary – she can reach out and take beauty as it pleases her.
“Welcome to Silver Cove. I am Ghaul, lord of this territory and heir of Pangea,” he explains, tracing the outline of the ridge of spikes along her back as he speaks. “Who are you?”
And he smiles, rows of crooked crocodile fangs lining up to fill his face.