09-11-2020, 06:25 PM
SEPULCHER
I thought what I'd do was, I'd pretend I was one of those deaf-mutes
They are each free to roam as they see fit, the triplets. No one polices their actions or tries to keep them in line. Whether this is due to a sense of apathy regarding their survival or fear of the brood, it makes no difference to Sepulcher. He is content to roam the forests playing hide and shriek with his siblings. Today, however, they are proving to be particularly elusive.
He lifts his head to sniff the air for their scents. There is a trace of them, certainly, but he is unpracticed in tracking to navigate their trail as expertly as his elder brother. Cher gives an annoyed series of clicks before dashing further into the underbrush ahead. Blurs of winter blue air and gnarled green trees are the only things he can see stretching before him. That is, until a figure with white-hot horns emerges on his left.
She’s hunting something small and his prey drive commands him to beat her to it. He scrambles after her and the chipmunk, gnashing his teeth until he sees her devour the little blob of warmth. Sepulcher give a shrill cry of disappointment along with a stomp of a tiny hoof.
“Share,” he pleads with a pout. The small drake nestles closer to her as scales erupt from his skin. He is larger than her but he is careful not to crowd her as he circles his sister, occasionally whining like a begging dog. It does not occur to him that he should, perhaps, introduce himself before making demands of Derelict.
He lifts his head to sniff the air for their scents. There is a trace of them, certainly, but he is unpracticed in tracking to navigate their trail as expertly as his elder brother. Cher gives an annoyed series of clicks before dashing further into the underbrush ahead. Blurs of winter blue air and gnarled green trees are the only things he can see stretching before him. That is, until a figure with white-hot horns emerges on his left.
She’s hunting something small and his prey drive commands him to beat her to it. He scrambles after her and the chipmunk, gnashing his teeth until he sees her devour the little blob of warmth. Sepulcher give a shrill cry of disappointment along with a stomp of a tiny hoof.
“Share,” he pleads with a pout. The small drake nestles closer to her as scales erupt from his skin. He is larger than her but he is careful not to crowd her as he circles his sister, occasionally whining like a begging dog. It does not occur to him that he should, perhaps, introduce himself before making demands of Derelict.