04-25-2020, 10:45 PM
GHAUL
i can take you there, but baby, you won't make it back
He often surveys his home as he drifts on warm air currents high above the ground. From up here, he can see all the familiar outlines and any strange figures approaching their borders. The nesting of his eggs has made him more eager to patrol while Clarissa incubates their brood. But flight requires every muscle of his body and he finds himself growing hungry in the blistering heat of the midday sun. A black tongue lolls from his mouth briefly as he searches the wind for any interesting scents it might carry. Sometimes he is lucky enough to catch the coral deer as they nap in the shade.
But a smell he does not recognize draws him to lower elevations where he can see each outline better. He tips his wings left and searches for anything strange as he banks toward the strange goat. Wolfbane does not smell quite like a meal, per say, and yet Ghaul finds himself drawn in just the same. The hellbeast gives one last flap of his wings to slow his landing and then he alights before the fanged creature. His scales are golden in the sun while the stars across his cheeks and talons glimmer brightly. After some consideration, he offers a curious series of clicks to test this creature’s reaction.
When Anaxarete and her aliens first arrived, he had greeted them in the same manner and they quickly reached a mutual respect. He wonders if this odd thing will be the same. Slowly, so as not to startle the stranger, he tucks his wings and draws closer. Each step leaves angry lines in the dried dirt where his talons once planted themselves. Ghaul sniffs at Wolfbane and tilts his head, but he comes to a stop roughly six feet from him.
“Do you speak?” he asks, and the question is followed by a short gibbering as he tests what form of communication might work best.
But a smell he does not recognize draws him to lower elevations where he can see each outline better. He tips his wings left and searches for anything strange as he banks toward the strange goat. Wolfbane does not smell quite like a meal, per say, and yet Ghaul finds himself drawn in just the same. The hellbeast gives one last flap of his wings to slow his landing and then he alights before the fanged creature. His scales are golden in the sun while the stars across his cheeks and talons glimmer brightly. After some consideration, he offers a curious series of clicks to test this creature’s reaction.
When Anaxarete and her aliens first arrived, he had greeted them in the same manner and they quickly reached a mutual respect. He wonders if this odd thing will be the same. Slowly, so as not to startle the stranger, he tucks his wings and draws closer. Each step leaves angry lines in the dried dirt where his talons once planted themselves. Ghaul sniffs at Wolfbane and tilts his head, but he comes to a stop roughly six feet from him.
“Do you speak?” he asks, and the question is followed by a short gibbering as he tests what form of communication might work best.