06-11-2015, 03:36 PM
what turns up in the dark
It does not know fear. Its brain is more reptilian than equid, it is a predator and they are meat.
(She is not meat, She is the one who brings the meat, who tell it to hunt, but it does not know where She has gone.)
It was made to protect Her, made to hunt, and without those purposes it feels strange, like it has been hollowed. It is a monster but it is not like the Great Old Ones, it is instead something lesser, a monster but not a monster-god.
(It serves a goddess, but that word is too long and tangled for it to use overmuch, instead, She simply is.)
The meat comes closer and it can smell where the meat once bled. But the meat smells of other things, too, strange things and worlds it does not know of.
(It does not know this meat – this girl - was an acolyte of the dark god, the one who would have Her dead in a moment, a long and storied history built between them, a tale of night magic and eclipses, of bones long sunk in the earth.)
The meat makes a noise, a greeting-sound it has heard echoed in the land (one it has tried to repeat before She laughed and told it no).
The meat is still too far away to catch but it thinks that as fast as the meat might be, it is faster. It is a hunter.
But it does not hunt. It watches. Its jaws click together and trill out a noise, half-greeting, half-inquiry. But she does not respond to the noise.
(Meat never does, expect perhaps to run, to begin the hunt.)
“..el..” it says, the words mushy and strange and frustrating in its elongated jaw, “…lo.”
CTHULHU
reference here