02-25-2017, 01:13 PM
He is quick to spot it - the instant sick recognition that roils in the stallion’s eyes.
Because of it, Feast smirks and ignores the insults hurled his way. What can this half-brother do to him beyond the insults and the annoyed looks? Nothing, he thinks. Nothing, now that he knows they are kin to one another.
Feast takes pleasure in that, can feel it hot and pleasant in the low of his belly where it slinks and sits.
But the smirk fast fades as the bigger of them makes a move towards him, just a half-step but it is enough to cause him to bare his own blunt teeth in retaliation. There is something entirely too predatory about the stallion now, as if he has turned the hunt upon him and Feast finds that he takes no pleasure in that thought or the feeling that accompanies it.
The feeling is a queer unfamiliar sensation of panic, reactionary and primal as it takes hold of him. It shows in the whites of his eyes as they roll, his head ducking as he clacks his teeth upon the air to show his half-brother that he is just a small thing, harmless really. Feast knows better, he is not so harmless but if he achieves success through the lie, he’ll cling to it - for now. Except the half-brother lunges forward, preternaturally fast, and Feast gets his first taste of fear as it slithers up his throat.
He stumbles backwards until he lands on his rump and stares up at the krampus-creature in a mixture of fear and bright, hot hate. Feast looks on as the flesh peels back layer after layer to reveal the skull beneath and then, the fear in him changes and he starts to scoff. A grinning skull is hardly terrifying, mother has shown him as much. Laughter bubbles up in his throat but wait! It is changing, so that gore drips from betwixt the teeth and the eyes roll in the sockets. Beautiful! He thinks, and fascinating, as he rises up off his sore rump (he hit the ground hard in his hasty scramble backwards, there will be a bruise in its wake).
The krampus-creature snaps his jaws at Feast’s haunches and he flinches, but does not run. He stamps his inborn terror down; nature says slavering snapping jaws should be cause enough to flee, but Feast is either smart to stand his ground or stupid, very stupid. “How are you doing that? Why can I not see you as you originally are?” Stupid boy! He gets right up in his half-brother’s bare-bones face and peers up at him a hard squint that has a curious glint to it. “You’ll have to do better than that.” he challenges.
Stupid boy.
Because of it, Feast smirks and ignores the insults hurled his way. What can this half-brother do to him beyond the insults and the annoyed looks? Nothing, he thinks. Nothing, now that he knows they are kin to one another.
Feast takes pleasure in that, can feel it hot and pleasant in the low of his belly where it slinks and sits.
But the smirk fast fades as the bigger of them makes a move towards him, just a half-step but it is enough to cause him to bare his own blunt teeth in retaliation. There is something entirely too predatory about the stallion now, as if he has turned the hunt upon him and Feast finds that he takes no pleasure in that thought or the feeling that accompanies it.
The feeling is a queer unfamiliar sensation of panic, reactionary and primal as it takes hold of him. It shows in the whites of his eyes as they roll, his head ducking as he clacks his teeth upon the air to show his half-brother that he is just a small thing, harmless really. Feast knows better, he is not so harmless but if he achieves success through the lie, he’ll cling to it - for now. Except the half-brother lunges forward, preternaturally fast, and Feast gets his first taste of fear as it slithers up his throat.
He stumbles backwards until he lands on his rump and stares up at the krampus-creature in a mixture of fear and bright, hot hate. Feast looks on as the flesh peels back layer after layer to reveal the skull beneath and then, the fear in him changes and he starts to scoff. A grinning skull is hardly terrifying, mother has shown him as much. Laughter bubbles up in his throat but wait! It is changing, so that gore drips from betwixt the teeth and the eyes roll in the sockets. Beautiful! He thinks, and fascinating, as he rises up off his sore rump (he hit the ground hard in his hasty scramble backwards, there will be a bruise in its wake).
The krampus-creature snaps his jaws at Feast’s haunches and he flinches, but does not run. He stamps his inborn terror down; nature says slavering snapping jaws should be cause enough to flee, but Feast is either smart to stand his ground or stupid, very stupid. “How are you doing that? Why can I not see you as you originally are?” Stupid boy! He gets right up in his half-brother’s bare-bones face and peers up at him a hard squint that has a curious glint to it. “You’ll have to do better than that.” he challenges.
Stupid boy.
1. I love Bruise too.
2. I am completely happy for Bruise to induce more fear and possibly maim his little half-brother in some way that makes Feast respect him haha. Or that turns him into Bruise's flunkie. <3