09-25-2018, 09:58 AM
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-size: 9.4pt; line-height: 1.4;"]It tried to run.
It weaved through the trees that lined the southern borders of the territory, heartbeat panicked and calling to him, but he did not rush. He did not need to, a silent shadow with no need to skirt around the trees when he could simply walk through them, waiting for the inevitable moment that his prey made a fatal mistake. And it did, not long after, shoulder catching the side of a tree and sending it sprawling across the dirt, panting thunderous in his ears. In the fraction of a second, he appeared beside the scrambling body, a broad paw pinning it as dispassionate, inky eyes drank in the desperate squirming. It was pathetic.
"Please, I-I'll give you anything!" Begging. He cocked his head to the side, burn-blackened wings unfurling forward to create a canopy of their own, and in the new darkness, he could see expanded pupils, the rise and fall of a tempting throat.
Bastilleprisoner was his primary target, but this was a sowing of seeds before harvesting. He was patient, and his handler gave no time limits.
He lowered his muzzle to the side of the canine's head, inhaling the throes of terror thrumming beneath the skin he brushed. A moment later and he was tasting it, blood spilling across his tongue sweet and thick. Hunger brayed in his veins, and he tore through flesh, devouring what was within reach until purpose reared its head. He pulled away, folding pinioned wings behind him, tongue sweeping across his mouth to catch remnants of his partial meal.
He disappeared, and appeared after another moment, dropping a member of The Pitt at the corpse. The lion struggled, but it was a smaller, weak thing, suitable only for its jaws that would approximate his own bite size. He shoved a maned head into the corpse's wounds, and as it struggled to breathe, his own skull momentarily shifted into that of a wolf like the body, teeth closing around a leg and breaking bone.
It was crippled, and he released it, stepping back to admire his work. A fight, between a Pitt member and one of The Ascendants, who died, but not before delivering a blow to its opponent. For the first time, his expression shifted, fangs bared in a red-stained sneer. A moment later, and The Reaper was gone.
//so this is NotGabe's first appearance
naturally there's no scent of him around, and any pawprints are the size of the lion's
[align=right][i]——INFO
It weaved through the trees that lined the southern borders of the territory, heartbeat panicked and calling to him, but he did not rush. He did not need to, a silent shadow with no need to skirt around the trees when he could simply walk through them, waiting for the inevitable moment that his prey made a fatal mistake. And it did, not long after, shoulder catching the side of a tree and sending it sprawling across the dirt, panting thunderous in his ears. In the fraction of a second, he appeared beside the scrambling body, a broad paw pinning it as dispassionate, inky eyes drank in the desperate squirming. It was pathetic.
"Please, I-I'll give you anything!" Begging. He cocked his head to the side, burn-blackened wings unfurling forward to create a canopy of their own, and in the new darkness, he could see expanded pupils, the rise and fall of a tempting throat.
Bastilleprisoner was his primary target, but this was a sowing of seeds before harvesting. He was patient, and his handler gave no time limits.
He lowered his muzzle to the side of the canine's head, inhaling the throes of terror thrumming beneath the skin he brushed. A moment later and he was tasting it, blood spilling across his tongue sweet and thick. Hunger brayed in his veins, and he tore through flesh, devouring what was within reach until purpose reared its head. He pulled away, folding pinioned wings behind him, tongue sweeping across his mouth to catch remnants of his partial meal.
He disappeared, and appeared after another moment, dropping a member of The Pitt at the corpse. The lion struggled, but it was a smaller, weak thing, suitable only for its jaws that would approximate his own bite size. He shoved a maned head into the corpse's wounds, and as it struggled to breathe, his own skull momentarily shifted into that of a wolf like the body, teeth closing around a leg and breaking bone.
It was crippled, and he released it, stepping back to admire his work. A fight, between a Pitt member and one of The Ascendants, who died, but not before delivering a blow to its opponent. For the first time, his expression shifted, fangs bared in a red-stained sneer. A moment later, and The Reaper was gone.
//so this is NotGabe's first appearance
naturally there's no scent of him around, and any pawprints are the size of the lion's
[align=right][i]——INFO
[align=center][table][tr][td]
I'M
[/td][td]FADING
[/td][td]FADING
[/td][td]MUCH TOO FAST
[/td][/tr][/table]