04-25-2020, 10:29 PM
GHAUL
i can take you there, but baby, you won't make it back
He follows her gaze to the expanse of Nerine and he even listens when she explains that she lives everywhere. This answer makes no sense to him but he does not dwell on it long. While she examines herself to assess her wellbeing, he gives her a cursory once over before turning his gaze once more to the ends of the cliffs. Whether the dead can pass through things or not is entirely unknown to him, but he does offer a quick snarl when she leaps into a collision with him. His instincts command him to snap her neck and prevent further insult and his jaws even part in anticipation.
But he must practice self-control. Not all things with a pulse are to be devoured, he reminds himself as he edges away from her. Instead of biting, he offers a snort in response to her theories of how well she would do as a ghost. If they cannot be eaten, then he has no interest in them, he decides.
“Why are you sorry? Her death was necessary,” he explains as he tilts his head and studies the outlines of her face in confusion. Without Bible’s blood being shed, he would not be here. He would not know the taste of blood as intimately as he does now. Many more deaths are required for him to proceed further in this life and he does not intend to take time and mourn each one. They are each precious to him in some way, certainly, but he would not shed tears even if he could.
“I do not know. I do not ask permission; I only take,” he says as his gaze falls on one of the sheep in the distance. Their wool often gets tangled in his teeth but he finds their livers and stomachs worth the effort it takes to reach them. For today, however, he is not hungry – at least not for meat. Ghaul watches the girl bounce onto light talons, something like his but not nearly so dense or scaled. “Do you only have blunt teeth like all the others?”
He tilts his head as he runs a black tongue over his own fangs thoughtfully.
But he must practice self-control. Not all things with a pulse are to be devoured, he reminds himself as he edges away from her. Instead of biting, he offers a snort in response to her theories of how well she would do as a ghost. If they cannot be eaten, then he has no interest in them, he decides.
“Why are you sorry? Her death was necessary,” he explains as he tilts his head and studies the outlines of her face in confusion. Without Bible’s blood being shed, he would not be here. He would not know the taste of blood as intimately as he does now. Many more deaths are required for him to proceed further in this life and he does not intend to take time and mourn each one. They are each precious to him in some way, certainly, but he would not shed tears even if he could.
“I do not know. I do not ask permission; I only take,” he says as his gaze falls on one of the sheep in the distance. Their wool often gets tangled in his teeth but he finds their livers and stomachs worth the effort it takes to reach them. For today, however, he is not hungry – at least not for meat. Ghaul watches the girl bounce onto light talons, something like his but not nearly so dense or scaled. “Do you only have blunt teeth like all the others?”
He tilts his head as he runs a black tongue over his own fangs thoughtfully.