GHAUL
why does it burn when i pee
Why does he hold her so precious, above so many others? She does not yield when he commands and yet it does not infuriate him. His jowls don’t ache to crush her trachea and listen to her wheeze through her last breaths feebly. Ghaul has never even thought of what it would be like to flay her in front of the entire Pangean court. But maybe that is why they are friends. Maybe that is why they are safe from one another – for today, at least.
If she asked, he could not promise her a lifetime of mercy.
And she could not promise it to him either.
He is mildly pleased when she tolerates his touch but his ego remains bruised at her previous rebuking. Ghaul coils tightly around his soured heart and stiffens when she presses her lips to the soft flesh of his throat. One flash of fangs and she could end him. But she mimics his promise and her mouth retreats, leaves him unscathed. Even he would have delighted to see himself squirming in agony at a death by venom, but this result is equally thrilling.
Teach me, she says, and he wonders if he ever could. He destroys only what is not freely given to him. Ghaul has only ever hungered for the things he has had to fight for. His head tilts as he watches the blur of her for a while, thinking and meditating on her request a while longer before his wings settle more comfortably across his long back.
“I seek out weakness and devour it. This world has no place for soft spines or fragile minds. There will be no sanctuary for those who feign strength,” he answers finally, his voice rasping over crooked teeth and scar tissue lips. “Take them by the throat and bite straight through. Rip a trophy from their corpses and leave the bodies as a warning.”
He thinks of the kills he has made so far: the mare in Loess, the prey of the forests. It is not enough to sate his hunger and even thinking of it makes him salivate. Ghaul swallows hard and shudders as he tries to brush the thought away for now. There will be time for hunting later.
If she asked, he could not promise her a lifetime of mercy.
And she could not promise it to him either.
He is mildly pleased when she tolerates his touch but his ego remains bruised at her previous rebuking. Ghaul coils tightly around his soured heart and stiffens when she presses her lips to the soft flesh of his throat. One flash of fangs and she could end him. But she mimics his promise and her mouth retreats, leaves him unscathed. Even he would have delighted to see himself squirming in agony at a death by venom, but this result is equally thrilling.
Teach me, she says, and he wonders if he ever could. He destroys only what is not freely given to him. Ghaul has only ever hungered for the things he has had to fight for. His head tilts as he watches the blur of her for a while, thinking and meditating on her request a while longer before his wings settle more comfortably across his long back.
“I seek out weakness and devour it. This world has no place for soft spines or fragile minds. There will be no sanctuary for those who feign strength,” he answers finally, his voice rasping over crooked teeth and scar tissue lips. “Take them by the throat and bite straight through. Rip a trophy from their corpses and leave the bodies as a warning.”
He thinks of the kills he has made so far: the mare in Loess, the prey of the forests. It is not enough to sate his hunger and even thinking of it makes him salivate. Ghaul swallows hard and shudders as he tries to brush the thought away for now. There will be time for hunting later.