12-19-2019, 11:21 PM
risk
Tonight, he hunts the hunter. He trades in his soft skin for armored scales and crooked fangs. Risk prowls the forest with cat eyes and viper pits to see the world in any form it might take around him. But he keeps his equine shape because he wants this hunter to know precisely who he is and why he is tracking the feline paw prints in the autumn mud. Tonight, he will make the hunter pay for what it did to him.
His hooves snap little twigs and orange leaves as he trails along, unconcerned with giving away his position. There will be no running from him. When the scent of blood hangs heavy in the air, he lifts his head with ears turned forward, straining to listen for any clues. He keeps his chin held high as he steps forward to face the feline, but he cannot be sure this is the one who took his life. Risk narrows his eyes as he examines her with tense muscles and taut nerves.
“I’ve come to return the favor to the one who killed me,” he spits, bristling as he watches her. He hopes that she can’t see the way his legs tremble as the memory of fangs sinking into his own throat course through his mind. Risk had been so cold, lying there on the forest floor all lone while he bled out. But he was only a child then. Now he returns, fully grown and prepared to purge the forests of those who would gladly consume him once more.
“You’re clearly a killer, but are you my killer?” he asks as he begins to circle her. The crocodilian scales along his skin grow a little around his throat but his different colored eyes remain focused on her just the same. Is it enough to keep him alive this time, though? Will it buy him the precious seconds needed to retaliate if she chooses to lunge at him? A trembling breath exhales from his lips as he tries to steady himself.
His hooves snap little twigs and orange leaves as he trails along, unconcerned with giving away his position. There will be no running from him. When the scent of blood hangs heavy in the air, he lifts his head with ears turned forward, straining to listen for any clues. He keeps his chin held high as he steps forward to face the feline, but he cannot be sure this is the one who took his life. Risk narrows his eyes as he examines her with tense muscles and taut nerves.
“I’ve come to return the favor to the one who killed me,” he spits, bristling as he watches her. He hopes that she can’t see the way his legs tremble as the memory of fangs sinking into his own throat course through his mind. Risk had been so cold, lying there on the forest floor all lone while he bled out. But he was only a child then. Now he returns, fully grown and prepared to purge the forests of those who would gladly consume him once more.
“You’re clearly a killer, but are you my killer?” he asks as he begins to circle her. The crocodilian scales along his skin grow a little around his throat but his different colored eyes remain focused on her just the same. Is it enough to keep him alive this time, though? Will it buy him the precious seconds needed to retaliate if she chooses to lunge at him? A trembling breath exhales from his lips as he tries to steady himself.