The winter bite is vicious: snow laps at cloven hooves, wind numbs twitching ears, an empty belly rumbles from the scarcity of food. Beqanna's most beautiful season, pure white and untouched, a last remnant untouched by the magical beings occupying everywhere else. Here, so deep in the forest that snow sticks to the ground in the summer, the reasonable do not linger. Draco despises the summer heat in Pangea and is often wildly unreasonable, so a few days respite in the darkest parts of the Forest suits hims well.
While Morgayne taunts the hyena-monster, Draco watches her with quiet poise. He keeps his distance for days, often hyper-aware of her movements and the constant trailing and hiding of the creature. The speckled woman is entertainment enough while the demon hides away from Desire's tossing rocks and the constant sun, but he does grow bored after the pair's dance seems to amount to nothing. He is humming to himself and thinking Dove is worried about him by now when the raucous and inevitable meeting of the two pierces his wondering. Draco is just intrigued enough to press closer, forked tail shivering with excitement when the scent of fresh blood finds him.
Nestled behind a thick clumping of trees, the demon watches the pair fight. He is delighted by the hyena's viciousness and surprised by the woman's dexterity. Only half of his face is visible, the single glowing eye alive with some joyous observation.
When Morgayne goes down, Draco twitches with the instinct to move but does not. He watches and watches, thinking surely she must be dying; and when the hyena-thing is finished, Draco will wander closer and finally study Morgayne up close after days of unsatisfying distance. Once again, though, the demon is pleasantly surprised to see the twisted canine fall flat to the earth. The bubblegum creature doesn't move and, thinking both surely have perished, Draco carves a serious path in their direction.
"Hm," he muses, leaning back on his haunches. There is an easy rise and fall to the woman's sides telling him she certainly isn't dead. Draco continues to ponder, then, unceremoniously: "I don't think your fangs are big enough to kill that thing." A statement made as he watches the thing's bloodshot eyes flash back to life. Draco sighs. He supposes he won't let Morgayne die, not yet, and begrudgingly focuses his fear on the rabid creature, knowing he could have outran both of them.
The hyena quivers and shakes, rolling to its back and submitting as baseless canines are wont to do. The fear has become Draco's favorite power - he's become terribly good at wielding it.
"Do you want to kill it?" Draco asks, eyes drifting back to the blue and pink woman, bemused.
@[Morgayne] <3
