GHAUL
And ye shall overthrow their altars, and break their pillars, and burn their groves with fire
He turns from the child and focuses his attentions of the third to approach him. The drake sniffs at the air and her scent, coupled with her voice, confirms that he is somewhat familiar with this one. It is not the violent armored girl or the stub-eared Neverwhere, but he does not know them by names. In his mind, she is the one who sought to cage him. Her voice is calm when she speaks though and so he is not inclined to disrupt the relative peace between them all, apprehensive as it may be for some.
“Lilliana tells me the monster wears my skin. I want to see if its blood tastes like mine, too,” he explains as his black tongue eagerly fidgets within his mouth. The last opponent he felt he might truly struggle to overcome had been Sochi, when his scales were not yet hardened and his fire not so hot. How thrilling it would be to find an adversary now that he is in his prime.
But Eurwen tells him that neither the monster nor their queen is anywhere to be found within these borders. He does not understand the morals of this world, of doing what is good or evil, but he knows that he had intended for her to face the fire with the rest of her people. This time, at least, it would serve his own interests to keep Nerine safe from whatever stalked in their shadows. A snort leaves him and he mulls over the problem a little more. Perhaps this will be a long hunt after all.
“Then I will track her scent. The Nerinians should sleep within sight of one another until she returns. If your monster comes back, you will have advantage in numbers,” he says flatly, almost as a command. Had this problem arose within his own borders, there would be no suggestions to his voice. But then again, the pack would actively hunt together until they took down anyone who threatened their own. Ghaul does not believe most of the northern kingdom has the stomach for the savagery in which he revels.
He turns his head to observe Celina when she speaks. The stars across his curling horns and cheek bones glimmer softly as he listens to her. Initially, he is quick to dismiss this since it just barely concerns him, but the child that had grown silent is quick to speak up now. His large head tilts to consider her accusations. Lying? Ghaul’s wings spread halfway as his mood shifts, darkens.
“Lying?” he echoes aloud this time. “The scaled one?”
His wings stretch further now as the corners of his lips peel back into a grin once more. Ghaul’s talons knead the frozen ground eagerly as his focus shifts to Celina, eyeing her feathery wings as saliva pools across his tongue. Could she outrun him? Could she bite through his scales? The questions draw a shiver down the length of his spine.
“Lilliana tells me the monster wears my skin. I want to see if its blood tastes like mine, too,” he explains as his black tongue eagerly fidgets within his mouth. The last opponent he felt he might truly struggle to overcome had been Sochi, when his scales were not yet hardened and his fire not so hot. How thrilling it would be to find an adversary now that he is in his prime.
But Eurwen tells him that neither the monster nor their queen is anywhere to be found within these borders. He does not understand the morals of this world, of doing what is good or evil, but he knows that he had intended for her to face the fire with the rest of her people. This time, at least, it would serve his own interests to keep Nerine safe from whatever stalked in their shadows. A snort leaves him and he mulls over the problem a little more. Perhaps this will be a long hunt after all.
“Then I will track her scent. The Nerinians should sleep within sight of one another until she returns. If your monster comes back, you will have advantage in numbers,” he says flatly, almost as a command. Had this problem arose within his own borders, there would be no suggestions to his voice. But then again, the pack would actively hunt together until they took down anyone who threatened their own. Ghaul does not believe most of the northern kingdom has the stomach for the savagery in which he revels.
He turns his head to observe Celina when she speaks. The stars across his curling horns and cheek bones glimmer softly as he listens to her. Initially, he is quick to dismiss this since it just barely concerns him, but the child that had grown silent is quick to speak up now. His large head tilts to consider her accusations. Lying? Ghaul’s wings spread halfway as his mood shifts, darkens.
“Lying?” he echoes aloud this time. “The scaled one?”
His wings stretch further now as the corners of his lips peel back into a grin once more. Ghaul’s talons knead the frozen ground eagerly as his focus shifts to Celina, eyeing her feathery wings as saliva pools across his tongue. Could she outrun him? Could she bite through his scales? The questions draw a shiver down the length of his spine.