07-20-2019, 11:08 PM
[align=center][div style="text-align:justify;width:55%;font-family:verdana"]DRABBLE
It was a dark night. A mist hung low in the air, the moisture and the heat mixing together something awful; his russet fur prickled with sweat, his paws uncomfortably squelching on the earth below as he stalked. Everything about him was measured -- careful -- waiting, patiently, for the precise moment to strike. All the while, he followed like a shadow. The doe in front of him would stop, but never linger too long, and munch on the grasses below absently while her eyes flicked to-and-fro for something. His mind was too focused to register exactly what, and he foolishly refused to pay close attention. He should've.
When his muscles got loose with adrenaline, he knew it was time to strike. His heart thundered wildly in anticipation, and he found himself envisioning how good she would taste on his tongue. The blood would be warm and slick and the roundness of her thighs would surely fill him up until the next sun-down, and he could laze about for as long as he wanted like a king.
So he pounced. His leap was a wonderful thing to behold as he soared effortlessly through the air, just to sink his claws into the doe's behind. She shrieked in shock immediately, and then let out a bleat of pain. Her strength was nothing compared to his own. She struggled, kicked at him, but he dragged her down to his level all the same and delivered the killing blow. She was gone in mere minutes. Dumb bitch, he'd muse. What could she hope to do against him? And most importantly -- why would she wander so off from her herd? No matter; she was his now, the silly little thing, and he would render her bones dry. He had a horrendous appetite, and couldn't afford to leave scraps when he'd go hungry for days at a time.
He wanted to dig in immediately, but he decided against it. He should drag her back home instead. It would take a few minutes, but this was his territory and he had absolutely nothing to fear from anyone or anything. They all knew his wrath - big Erebos, resident badass, monster-in-hiding. He didn't like to share and any visitors would be dealt with swiftly. Unfortunately, that didn't bode well for him. Word got around, and as he grew, the prey pool shrunk and he got hungrier and hungrier. He needed to move soon. He didn't want to - he liked it here, with the heat and scraggly mountains, the occasional big body of bright blue water the same color as his eyes. If he could he'd stay forever.
When he got to his home, a cozy little crack in the mountains, he got to work eating. And promptly spit out his first bite.
It tasted awful.
(It would then dawn on him that the constant anxiety the doe displayed was at fault here. He should've been better, sneakier, less brutal. Because of his carelessness the meat was sour and he fought the urge to scream and snarl like a petulant child.)
It was a dark night. A mist hung low in the air, the moisture and the heat mixing together something awful; his russet fur prickled with sweat, his paws uncomfortably squelching on the earth below as he stalked. Everything about him was measured -- careful -- waiting, patiently, for the precise moment to strike. All the while, he followed like a shadow. The doe in front of him would stop, but never linger too long, and munch on the grasses below absently while her eyes flicked to-and-fro for something. His mind was too focused to register exactly what, and he foolishly refused to pay close attention. He should've.
When his muscles got loose with adrenaline, he knew it was time to strike. His heart thundered wildly in anticipation, and he found himself envisioning how good she would taste on his tongue. The blood would be warm and slick and the roundness of her thighs would surely fill him up until the next sun-down, and he could laze about for as long as he wanted like a king.
So he pounced. His leap was a wonderful thing to behold as he soared effortlessly through the air, just to sink his claws into the doe's behind. She shrieked in shock immediately, and then let out a bleat of pain. Her strength was nothing compared to his own. She struggled, kicked at him, but he dragged her down to his level all the same and delivered the killing blow. She was gone in mere minutes. Dumb bitch, he'd muse. What could she hope to do against him? And most importantly -- why would she wander so off from her herd? No matter; she was his now, the silly little thing, and he would render her bones dry. He had a horrendous appetite, and couldn't afford to leave scraps when he'd go hungry for days at a time.
He wanted to dig in immediately, but he decided against it. He should drag her back home instead. It would take a few minutes, but this was his territory and he had absolutely nothing to fear from anyone or anything. They all knew his wrath - big Erebos, resident badass, monster-in-hiding. He didn't like to share and any visitors would be dealt with swiftly. Unfortunately, that didn't bode well for him. Word got around, and as he grew, the prey pool shrunk and he got hungrier and hungrier. He needed to move soon. He didn't want to - he liked it here, with the heat and scraggly mountains, the occasional big body of bright blue water the same color as his eyes. If he could he'd stay forever.
When he got to his home, a cozy little crack in the mountains, he got to work eating. And promptly spit out his first bite.
It tasted awful.
(It would then dawn on him that the constant anxiety the doe displayed was at fault here. He should've been better, sneakier, less brutal. Because of his carelessness the meat was sour and he fought the urge to scream and snarl like a petulant child.)
I'LL HUNT YOU DOWN LIKE A TYRANNOSAURUS
———————「 tanglewood / tags / plot / @suavaci 」 ———————