[open] The Sweet Sting || Ghaul, Any ||

[Wolfbane]

I believe I'd die if I only could

I sure feel strange, but it sure feels good

This land, Pangea - it didn't seem to belong to one particular entity but a mindset, instead. Bane, watching Ghaul approach with a measure of reverent fascination for mother Nature and her curiosities, can smell the scents on the wind here like a varying bouquet of flowers. Soft things do not dwell in Pangea. They gouge their claws into the baked clay and they make this land their home, not the other way around. And Ghaul is a product of this gouging; he is something Wolfbane considers Pangea itself to have produced.

All scales and wings and talons, magnificent in his descent toward the earth, Ghaul looked medieval and terrifying, but his initial greeting took Wolfbane by surprise. The horned stallion clicked a series of broken chitters that were senseless to Wolfbane’s ears except for their similarity to some natural creatures, as if this were a normal way to greet other equines, and only then did he speak, wondering if Wolfbane could as well. “What on this earth have they been doing here?” Wyrm wondered in his thoughts, appraising the way Ghaul seemed to tilt his head intelligently from side-to-side. “I doubt the eyes were ever necessary.” His grandsire’s thoughts almost shuddered, having seen Ghaul’s perfect flight and landing.

Wolfbane, however, was grinning. “I can say plenty.” He rasped through his forefangs, “But I best not.” He bleated, laughing softly.

He shifted casually, in case Ghaul was curious of the transition. First his teeth and mouth, then his jaw and face re-shaped, getting bigger and boxier. His ears shrank and his legs grew; the stiff goat hair shortened and hardened. He took his inspiration from the horse in front of him and Wolfbane worked, sculpting his muscles and the shape of his bones with the power of his mind, until the finished result was something similar to Ghaul, but not exact. The scales were not a dragon’s, but made of some prehistoric animal’s scales that were still ancient and armor-plated. He kept his own eyes, but left the ram’s horns curling by his cheeks for the sake of feeling their weight. The rest, aside from those damn unique galaxy markings of his, could pass for a twin.

“Call me Wolfbane if you like.” The second Ghaul shrugged, “Names are unimportant. My interests are more… aggressive.”

For this thread:  Sex: M  ◉  Appearance: Mimicking Ghaul  ◉  Mood: Indifferent

@[ghaul]