01-29-2020, 10:18 PM
GHAUL
i can take you there, but baby, you won't make it back
He’s nearly ready for sleep when an unfamiliar scent is drawn up into his nostrils. Well, not entirely unfamiliar, but one that does not typically belong here in Pangea. He chitters quietly to himself in thought and then he shifts his wings across his back so they lay loosely across him. Ghaul must reach her before the aliens do, he thinks, and so he hurries from his little nook in a canyon near the border.
The scaled creature tilts his head this way and that as he observes the blurs of deep navy blues until they turn to a white-hot blob. He pauses, one talon curled in the air for his next step, and he wonders why there isn’t even a red outline to her. This requires further investigation, of course, and he’s skittering toward her with a wide grin smeared across his face. Ghaul hesitates when he reaches her as he slows to a brief halt to consider his options. A brief series of clicks emanates from his throat and then he closes the gap between them.
His wings spread wide to guard the webbing from her heat as he curls his side against her. The scales provide him with just enough protection to withstand her but it feels like stepping into a hot bath. A hissing breath is drawn between his crooked fangs, but he adjusts quickly enough. Slowly, very slowly, he folds his wings across his back once more and releases a slow breath,
“Warmer than Greta,” he muses aloud, followed by a short snicker. “I am Ghaul, of Pangea. You are my guest for one year?”
In his excitement to meet something so strange, he has regressed into his childhood speech patterns. He spreads his jaws wide in a seemingly dramatic yawn before a soft purr settles into the back of his mouth. Could he keep her for longer than a year? Or perhaps he could just snatch her away every time winter is approaching.
“I want to touch your face.”
His head tilts, curled horns glimmering with their stardust as he observes her. In his hurry to solve the mystery of her heat signature, he nearly forgot to learn what she looked like. Now it just feels odd to map the curves of her cheek and brow without some sort of request beforehand. This night is full of firsts, for him.
The scaled creature tilts his head this way and that as he observes the blurs of deep navy blues until they turn to a white-hot blob. He pauses, one talon curled in the air for his next step, and he wonders why there isn’t even a red outline to her. This requires further investigation, of course, and he’s skittering toward her with a wide grin smeared across his face. Ghaul hesitates when he reaches her as he slows to a brief halt to consider his options. A brief series of clicks emanates from his throat and then he closes the gap between them.
His wings spread wide to guard the webbing from her heat as he curls his side against her. The scales provide him with just enough protection to withstand her but it feels like stepping into a hot bath. A hissing breath is drawn between his crooked fangs, but he adjusts quickly enough. Slowly, very slowly, he folds his wings across his back once more and releases a slow breath,
“Warmer than Greta,” he muses aloud, followed by a short snicker. “I am Ghaul, of Pangea. You are my guest for one year?”
In his excitement to meet something so strange, he has regressed into his childhood speech patterns. He spreads his jaws wide in a seemingly dramatic yawn before a soft purr settles into the back of his mouth. Could he keep her for longer than a year? Or perhaps he could just snatch her away every time winter is approaching.
“I want to touch your face.”
His head tilts, curled horns glimmering with their stardust as he observes her. In his hurry to solve the mystery of her heat signature, he nearly forgot to learn what she looked like. Now it just feels odd to map the curves of her cheek and brow without some sort of request beforehand. This night is full of firsts, for him.