GHAUL
And ye shall overthrow their altars, and break their pillars, and burn their groves with fire
He paces atop one of the Pangean plateaus. His talons leave deep marks in the dry clay while an irritated growl lingers in the back of his throat. Yadigar was nowhere to be found and yet no one seemed to know precisely where his son had gone. The idea of leaving Virgil and the girls makes him uneasy, and yet he can’t stand not searching for the boy. Had anyone entered the Cove to snatch him, an alarm would have sounded and Gospel would have defended her home. Did he leave on his own, then? Or was he lured away while he lazed in the meadows?
He spits, furious and leaps down from his perch to ground level. His wings spread into an easy glide and then a gentle landing. Ghaul sniffs at the air or whatever path he figures his son must have walked. The air is stagnant with a lack of violence as it is, he thinks. Perhaps he will punish the other regions until one of them confesses to taking his child from him? He pauses in his steps and taps a large claw against the dirt in thought. He could take their heirs, maybe even devour them one by one for each day Gar is not returned to him. But perhaps that is too cruel. He will tear only a limb from the children, then.
But he is plucked from these thoughts at the sound of someone coming closer. He turns his head, curled horns swinging suddenly as he sniffs in their direction. Their outline is difficult to discern from here, but he feels no desire to meet their approach.
“If you don’t have good news, then keep your distance,” he warns, snapping his teeth to make his message clear.
He spits, furious and leaps down from his perch to ground level. His wings spread into an easy glide and then a gentle landing. Ghaul sniffs at the air or whatever path he figures his son must have walked. The air is stagnant with a lack of violence as it is, he thinks. Perhaps he will punish the other regions until one of them confesses to taking his child from him? He pauses in his steps and taps a large claw against the dirt in thought. He could take their heirs, maybe even devour them one by one for each day Gar is not returned to him. But perhaps that is too cruel. He will tear only a limb from the children, then.
But he is plucked from these thoughts at the sound of someone coming closer. He turns his head, curled horns swinging suddenly as he sniffs in their direction. Their outline is difficult to discern from here, but he feels no desire to meet their approach.
“If you don’t have good news, then keep your distance,” he warns, snapping his teeth to make his message clear.
@[breach]