05-21-2020, 07:36 PM
GHAUL
And ye shall overthrow their altars, and break their pillars, and burn their groves with fire
He wonders what her other self must look like in Pangea, a ghostly thing with its jaw wagging as though it speaks. Does it pass through the cliffs and trees there? How strange it must look. Ghaul would imagine if his touch passes right through her here, then her other self must be safe from any kind of physical danger, should anyone like to bring her harm. He lifts his chin and stares thoughtfully in the direction he assumes this shadow Beyza is wandering about.
“Sleep walking, yet wide awake,” he says before bringing his gaze back to her.
If he minds the way she stares over his shoulder at his nest, he doesn’t show it. He would learn whether this form of hers could be set on fire if she seemed likely to harm the young brood. She seems more curious than malicious, though, so he isn’t inclined to discourage her behavior. Instead he simply nods when she speaks her approval of his living arrangement. Her question gives him pause.
Does he have enemies? Ghaul tilts his head as he considers the question. There is no one specific who comes to mind. Despite his delusions of grandeur, he has never been quick to anger and he finds some joy in every interaction. Baiting his mortality with opponents is a past time that brings him peace and calm when he lays his head down at night. Enemies, he imagines, are those he would destroy on sight. No one manages to summon his hatred in this manner.
“There is opportunity in everyone. Some are friends and companions, others are meals waiting to be harvested,” he finally decides. “To call someone Enemy is to give them a degree of reverence they have not earned.”
He studies the warmth and outline of her face for a while longer before he looks back to his nest.
“What about you? Have you found someone worthy of calling your enemy?”
“Sleep walking, yet wide awake,” he says before bringing his gaze back to her.
If he minds the way she stares over his shoulder at his nest, he doesn’t show it. He would learn whether this form of hers could be set on fire if she seemed likely to harm the young brood. She seems more curious than malicious, though, so he isn’t inclined to discourage her behavior. Instead he simply nods when she speaks her approval of his living arrangement. Her question gives him pause.
Does he have enemies? Ghaul tilts his head as he considers the question. There is no one specific who comes to mind. Despite his delusions of grandeur, he has never been quick to anger and he finds some joy in every interaction. Baiting his mortality with opponents is a past time that brings him peace and calm when he lays his head down at night. Enemies, he imagines, are those he would destroy on sight. No one manages to summon his hatred in this manner.
“There is opportunity in everyone. Some are friends and companions, others are meals waiting to be harvested,” he finally decides. “To call someone Enemy is to give them a degree of reverence they have not earned.”
He studies the warmth and outline of her face for a while longer before he looks back to his nest.
“What about you? Have you found someone worthy of calling your enemy?”