SOLO // blooding | tw(gore)

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JORMUNGAND

male — the Pitt — newblood — pinterest board

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IC TEXT | IC opinions only

Alright, so to be accepted you need to forage into the big, bad desert? Okay. Jor's gonna do just that. He didn't really give a shit what happened, as long as he brought back a trophy, right? So he set off across the desert, his claws digging grooves into the sand that assaulted his nostrils and caused him to sneeze multiple times. An angry snarl left his throat, he planned on killing, not getting sick.

Not like he fancied killing for food anyways, he fed before he left his den. No, the Italian much preferred hunting and killing for sport. He enjoyed the way his victim squirmed beneath his bulk as he slowly squeezed the life out of it, watching the bright optics slowly go dull as its life force drained. Sometimes they fought back. He loved that. Feisty prey, like the kitsune his father taught him to kill. Ohhhh, she hated him. Especially when he tore off her tails, one by one. The screaming turned to begging, fat teardrops rolling down her cheeks and hitting the marble floor. His father had laughed as his eyes gleamed with malice, watching his son deliver the final blow after crooning sweet nothings into his prey's ear. Jormungand had suffered under her claws, the right side of his face had been bleeding but he was on an adrenaline high after eating her flesh.

The scars that mar his face throbbed, he lifted a paw to gently touch it, and winced. Good job bringing back memories, idiot. He briefly showed teeth before his lobes pricked up, detecting a sound. Normally Jor preferred brute force to overpower his prey or lovers, but this time he wasn't feeling like exerting that much energy. He could care less about some stupid tradition that the Pittians had to go through. He just wanted the title. He ran his tongue over rubbery lips and sighed. A light gust of wind blew over his face, tickling the fur on his body and making a small smile appear on the large male's maw. He still needed to hunt, spend a while out in the desert. Normally he didn't mind any weather, but this heat drained water from his system surprisingly quick, so the first thing he did was find a rock in the shade and plop his ass on it, widening his jaws in a yawn. He didn't care how long he spent outside. Not like he 4was in a hurry to get back. He'd just wait a bit until it was dark and regain some strength.
So he dropped his head to crossed paws and fell asleep.

A noise startled him awake. A small rustling that made an icy lapis optic reflect the harsh glare of the moon as it opened. Soon another glowing orb followed suit, swivelling towards a large bush suspiciously close to him. His claws slid out smoothly, the fur on his back bristling as the large male spun around, coming face-to-snout with a fat komodo dragon. He hissed and leapt to the side, claws shooting out and lacerating against the other's face. It screeched, flashing needle-like teeth that looked like it would hurt. "You bitch-" Jormungand turned to go when he felt a sharp stinging in his hind leg. He looked down, the dragon had latched a claw onto it and the spikes were drilling into his skin, drawing crimson lifeblood, dangerously close to his bone. He lifted the paw in attempt to shake the beast off, stepping backwards in the process and soon he was-

falling, off the rock.
Onto hard sand that enveloped his body as it cushioned his fall. The dragon had let go of his leg, hopefully having been thrown off in the process. Jor winced, the marks were still in. His mind split in two.
"I'm not dying to a lizard." He spat in the sand and struggled out, clawing for a grip from anything.  He heard another scream and felt goo splatter on his face. He looked at his paws, an eye hung there, wriggling and dancing around. He shook it off and struggled to get himself out of the sand  he was trapping himself in. There was no way he was going to die to a piece of shit like that. They'd both sustained enough injuries to weaken them enough and he wasn't going to walk away with his tail between his legs. So he pounced at the thing again. Its remaining eye widened upon seeing a 200-pound shadow crashing against it and its stubby legs stumbled back with the sheer force. Mistake, as it only kicked up dust and sand and that temporarily blinded its one remaining eye but it was too late.

A huge cracking, snapping and twisting as the beasts' jaws locked around his prey's neck. The komodo dragon let out a yelp, probably for the first time in its life, and coughed out two last breaths that the panther batted away with a careless swipe of the paw, slicing off the other's tongue in the process. There was no more movement from the smaller animal and the beast stepped off the body, victorious. No blood had been spilt upon the killing, there was no way Jor was going to eat the body. He preferred getting rid of it in another fashion. His claws were sharp, he raked them against a rock to check, and he slowly began the tough process of cutting into its hide, tearing strips of fresh meat and ripping it from the bones. Jormungand could have left it alive, another way of torture. Disable the piece of shit and rip the flesh off slowly, watching  as the blood dripped down the sides of the komodo's flank.
The screams of agony of that animal as Jor lapped the fresh blood spilling out would be music to his ears, accompanying him as he began to devour the thing alive.

After stripping the corpse Jor spotted the incisions his fangs had made on the neckbones, allowed a smirk to slide onto his lips. "Good riddance." He spat, tearing the skull off in one fluid motion. Bones popped, and his fur prickled as the satisfying sound entered his ears. Beautiful. He'd probably get someone to clean it later. He couldn't be bothered to do it himself. He turned around and kicked sand over the meat, rendering it inedible should the idiot who chose to attempt to eat his kill wish to choke to their death. He scoffed a laugh and decided to cut off the claws too. After all, they had left a mark on him.
Once he was finished with cleaning himself, licking stray bits of blood from his fur, he picked up the bones comfortably in his jaws, and set off home.

#psychosocial.