01-20-2020, 07:42 PM
GHAUL
i can take you there, but baby, you won't make it back
He lifts his head sharply when he hears the clicking emanating from her, his small ears turning this way and that until he spots her. Ghaul watches the blurred red and white of her approach curiously before he offers a brief chittering noise in return. No one ever quite returned the odd sort of noises he made and so he’s already curious just what sort of creature she is. The drake leans his head forward, sniffing the air for the scent of scales to go with the strange outline of her body, and he’s mildly disappointed when he finds none.
But while she may not be quite different in the same way as he, there remains a need to understand. One talon lifts to step forward when she asks her question. He pauses. What is it like to fly? He regards this question for a moment before replacing his foot back in the spring mud where it had been before. Gluttony had made it sound so beautiful when he asked her but he had never found it to be so glorious. But perhaps she was not a hunter in the way he is?
“Thrilling,” he finally answers, his lips spreading into a wide grin built of crooked crocodile teeth. He thinks of plucking young fawns from their mothers and the cries they each give. They always keep their eyes trained on the tree lines for signs of wolves or large cats, never thinking to watch the skies for something worse.
“They never see me coming. The table is turned.”
And then he laughs but something about the noise is out of sync, disjointed from itself with each breath. But his focus drifts to her strange tail and he finds something like envy worming its way into him. The only part of him that is not armored or weaponized, he thinks. His tail is much the same as any other of his species and he wonders if she has ever used it to kill. Certainly, she has?
“I am Ghaul, of Pangea. Show me your tail.”
But while she may not be quite different in the same way as he, there remains a need to understand. One talon lifts to step forward when she asks her question. He pauses. What is it like to fly? He regards this question for a moment before replacing his foot back in the spring mud where it had been before. Gluttony had made it sound so beautiful when he asked her but he had never found it to be so glorious. But perhaps she was not a hunter in the way he is?
“Thrilling,” he finally answers, his lips spreading into a wide grin built of crooked crocodile teeth. He thinks of plucking young fawns from their mothers and the cries they each give. They always keep their eyes trained on the tree lines for signs of wolves or large cats, never thinking to watch the skies for something worse.
“They never see me coming. The table is turned.”
And then he laughs but something about the noise is out of sync, disjointed from itself with each breath. But his focus drifts to her strange tail and he finds something like envy worming its way into him. The only part of him that is not armored or weaponized, he thinks. His tail is much the same as any other of his species and he wonders if she has ever used it to kill. Certainly, she has?
“I am Ghaul, of Pangea. Show me your tail.”