06-13-2017, 09:54 PM
halchon
sometimes quiet is violent
He needs to go; to clear his head of all of the horrible thoughts he was thinking about the horses scattered here and there throughout the Forest. Of the dark recesses of his mind that he was delving into. The thoughts of how simple it would be to lure them to the Cove…how easy it would be to break their minds and spirits until they were a shell. Just like him.
A smell touched his nose…a mare, and two foals. Her foals. He knew this without turning around; his sense of smell so keenly developed over the years of hunting that the different odors weren’t difficult to distinguish.
When he did turn around, he did so languidly, in no hurry and in possession of the knowledge that sudden movements were the ones that were most likely to scare away your prey. She spoke then, cheerful and eager and friendly and everything he was accustomed to searching for in a potential victim.
Help…she couldn’t help. How could she help when he doesn’t even know what he needs? A man of few words, Halchon considers her carefully without speaking. The silence between them grows like an abyss, until he is sure he has waited long enough to make her at least slightly uncomfortable.
“You can help me,” he drawls deeply, “By taking care of yourself and your children,” he leers at them briefly, before wiping the cruel expression from his face and putting on his mask of indifference. “You could only protect one if it came down to it.”
His tone is monotonous and unaffected, and although a multitude of potentials are running through his head, thousands of things he could do to the young mare and her foals that would make them wish they had never been born, he doesn’t advance a single step closer to the trio.
He holds her eyes, expressionless and unwavering, unwilling to be the first to move regardless of his lack of malicious intent towards her. At least some of the values his father ingrained in him still stood.