let the dream pull you below; Vulgaris

[vulgaris]

VulgariS

take me, take me back to your bed. i love you so much that it hurts my head.
say, i don't mind you under my skin. oh, let the bad parts in, the bad parts in.

Comfort breeds weakness, his father used to tell him. Being around Leliana had soothed the hunger and the insatiable need for violence in him. Without even realizing it, he had let her trim his claws. He pauses to rest a moment as he makes his way toward Tephra, eyeing the shell-shocked eyes of those who have yet to find shelter from the plague. They are all fretful and timid in their movements while he remains self-assured, as always. Vulgaris is content knowing that he is an apex predator, even in these times. There is nothing to hunt him.

When he lowers his head to drink, he doesn’t concern himself with the idea of anything lurking beneath the water’s surface. He simply watches the strangers mumbling to one another on the other side of the river. If the water was only a little quieter, he could make out what they were saying. He lifts his head slowly, water dribbling from his chin to be swept away in the gentle current.

But then something caresses his leg and his instincts are reignited once more. His jaws open wide and snap shut, all the little constrictor teeth sinking into something tough and rubbery. Vulgaris releases the odd appendage and yanks his leg from the water’s edge, moving backward as an airy hiss spits from his lungs. A single drop of venom drips from a fang, too late to be injected into his assumed assailant.

If only the water didn’t hide her warmth, he could simply reach down and clench the creature in his awful jaws. Would it have bones to crunch between his teeth? Would it squeal like a stuck pig or would it screech like a little pheasant? He watches, waits with eager eyes trained on the river’s surface as the hunger comes bubbling back to life. How awful, how delicious to feel the hunt flowing through his veins again.

@[Yidhra]