02-17-2019, 07:53 PM
//OOC
Pupils that were slitted with a feral sense of fear took in the light that glinted off of the blade when it moved to his throat. Blood pumped feverishly through his veins, and he could almost feel it spreading into the snow and mud. He was helpless now, unable to move as death drew closer and closer. Was this how...
A weighted breath struggled into his lungs - it was difficult to breathe under the pressure of the hunter on his back. His fear relentlessly screamed at him to run away as far and fast as he could, but the depths of his mind told him to give it up. Fighting back was pointless. He'd lost. Muscles began to relax, contrary to the rapid heartbeat and ragged breathing. Hunter and prey locked gazes for the last time, one of victory and glee, the other of fear and defeat.
He had just closed his eyes, not willing to watch what remained of his life spilling out before him, when the sickening wet noise of an inflicted wound brought him to contract in a flinch. Only... it wasn't him that was bleeding. Was it? Was he already dead? Hesitantly, he slowly opened one eye and looked up. It wasn't him that was bleeding after all. A bloody hand and blade removed itself from the gut of the hunter, who took a step back in response, weapon dropped in favor of clutching at the fatal injury. A new, unfamiliar human had joined the fray, and it didn't take much deduction to know he had just single-handedly dispatched a full-grown man. Quite literally, in fact. The weight on his back abruptly lifted. Demon. The single word was shouted at the newcomer. He was small, almost comically so, for human standards. A demon?
Now wasn't the time to think about such things. The hunters were fleeing, two running and one staggering. He should too. He needed to run. Run, far away. Scaly body lifting from the mud with a short stumble, his sore ankle made itself known. He winced, twice when he folded his broken wing to his side. Mud that coated his belly also covered the necklace that hung at his neck, blocking the various glows that betrayed how he felt. Go. Go. The dragon began to back away, abruptly turning tail and beginning to flee back into the wilderness. Get away from the scene of his attempted murder. Staying here was impossible now that his existence had been exposed. Moving on was of utmost importance. Go, and go quickly.
[align=center]ATTACK IN BOLD #6e65b5 - TAGSPupils that were slitted with a feral sense of fear took in the light that glinted off of the blade when it moved to his throat. Blood pumped feverishly through his veins, and he could almost feel it spreading into the snow and mud. He was helpless now, unable to move as death drew closer and closer. Was this how...
A weighted breath struggled into his lungs - it was difficult to breathe under the pressure of the hunter on his back. His fear relentlessly screamed at him to run away as far and fast as he could, but the depths of his mind told him to give it up. Fighting back was pointless. He'd lost. Muscles began to relax, contrary to the rapid heartbeat and ragged breathing. Hunter and prey locked gazes for the last time, one of victory and glee, the other of fear and defeat.
He had just closed his eyes, not willing to watch what remained of his life spilling out before him, when the sickening wet noise of an inflicted wound brought him to contract in a flinch. Only... it wasn't him that was bleeding. Was it? Was he already dead? Hesitantly, he slowly opened one eye and looked up. It wasn't him that was bleeding after all. A bloody hand and blade removed itself from the gut of the hunter, who took a step back in response, weapon dropped in favor of clutching at the fatal injury. A new, unfamiliar human had joined the fray, and it didn't take much deduction to know he had just single-handedly dispatched a full-grown man. Quite literally, in fact. The weight on his back abruptly lifted. Demon. The single word was shouted at the newcomer. He was small, almost comically so, for human standards. A demon?
Now wasn't the time to think about such things. The hunters were fleeing, two running and one staggering. He should too. He needed to run. Run, far away. Scaly body lifting from the mud with a short stumble, his sore ankle made itself known. He winced, twice when he folded his broken wing to his side. Mud that coated his belly also covered the necklace that hung at his neck, blocking the various glows that betrayed how he felt. Go. Go. The dragon began to back away, abruptly turning tail and beginning to flee back into the wilderness. Get away from the scene of his attempted murder. Staying here was impossible now that his existence had been exposed. Moving on was of utmost importance. Go, and go quickly.
![[Image: squawk.gif]](https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/405754444454559756/423199229599547418/squawk.gif)
THE DANGER DOESN’T REGISTER ,
THE FEAR FEELS LIKE AN ACT !
dragon — emotionless — tags — typhoon — roleplayed by cakie !