god make me pay
like the devil i am
like the devil i am
He does not know the stallion very well, or the canine-counterpart. All the water-god cared for was another victim, and following the wolf would allow him to do so. He had to admit that he had begun to rather enjoy the hunt, as Crevan would call it, and though he had always been a rather powerful being, Maugrim lacked the organization and the skills to execute cleanly, or to understand the importance of keeping them alive, and using them to benefit the kingdom. Not that he truly cared for the kingdom in a way that would be honorable (he would choose his own life over another’s any day), but the logistics of it all started to rather appeal to him.
The trickery, the stealth, the power.
The beasts that have come together in the darkness of the forest were some of the most powerful that he had ever come across, and it excited him.
He swirls aggressively in the water of low-tide before Crevan’s hooves, churning wildly in the day-warmed saltwater. The feeling is delectable, and the ocean water nearly hums with the life that Maugrim gives it. It hisses and spits in response to the stallion’s suggestions, splashing Crevan’s legs idly, already imagining wrapping himself up into the one called Wound and restricting her to nothing but a body with blood and bones and muscles, no longer able to make decisions for herself but to bend to his will much like the water so easily does.
Crevan’s suggestions do not need an answer, because the target has already so easily presented itself to them. The water before the stallion now calms, allowing himself to become still and silent beneath the soft ripple that naturally occurs from the night’s wind. He is hidden, and hopefully forgotten beneath the murky shallows of briny water.
Please, it is safe to cross.
Wrong.
So terribly wrong.
He comes to her, like a crocodile pedaling towards its prey - unseen, save for the gentle ripple of water from his purposeful movement against the otherwise normal current. Barely noticeable, especially in the light of dusk, and especially unnoticeable to one who is fully encompassed with another stranger on the shore. He hopes that Crevan keeps her attention (possibly luring her into the water even further so that taking her would be all the more invigorating) so that her eyes would not fall to the unnatural current that presses hard towards her, intention and foreboding stirring beneath its starlit depths.
The water that she stands before suddenly brims with life, rippling and billowing like the powerful waves that crash on the blackened shoreline. It pulls angrily and rapidly at her legs, licking with cold and powerful tongues of saltwater that come from seemingly nowhere, intent on dragging her into the shallows.
Not safe.
It is then that he rises, a wavering equine-form of frothing saltwater, transparent beneath the now-moon washed landscape. Slowly he becomes solid, the splashed pearl and emerald of his coat emerging as he allows the water to drip from him, focusing all of his power into keeping her right where he wanted her. He is not completely harnessing her just yet, for he revels in the realization of the imminent capture. Dark, bottomless eyes stare into the soft coffee-brown of her own, wanting to taste the fear that would be hiding in their irises.
Perhaps she would try to run; he is sure Crevan would find that most delightful. Maugrim was rather curious to see what the wolf-man could do.
The trickery, the stealth, the power.
The beasts that have come together in the darkness of the forest were some of the most powerful that he had ever come across, and it excited him.
He swirls aggressively in the water of low-tide before Crevan’s hooves, churning wildly in the day-warmed saltwater. The feeling is delectable, and the ocean water nearly hums with the life that Maugrim gives it. It hisses and spits in response to the stallion’s suggestions, splashing Crevan’s legs idly, already imagining wrapping himself up into the one called Wound and restricting her to nothing but a body with blood and bones and muscles, no longer able to make decisions for herself but to bend to his will much like the water so easily does.
Crevan’s suggestions do not need an answer, because the target has already so easily presented itself to them. The water before the stallion now calms, allowing himself to become still and silent beneath the soft ripple that naturally occurs from the night’s wind. He is hidden, and hopefully forgotten beneath the murky shallows of briny water.
Please, it is safe to cross.
Wrong.
So terribly wrong.
He comes to her, like a crocodile pedaling towards its prey - unseen, save for the gentle ripple of water from his purposeful movement against the otherwise normal current. Barely noticeable, especially in the light of dusk, and especially unnoticeable to one who is fully encompassed with another stranger on the shore. He hopes that Crevan keeps her attention (possibly luring her into the water even further so that taking her would be all the more invigorating) so that her eyes would not fall to the unnatural current that presses hard towards her, intention and foreboding stirring beneath its starlit depths.
The water that she stands before suddenly brims with life, rippling and billowing like the powerful waves that crash on the blackened shoreline. It pulls angrily and rapidly at her legs, licking with cold and powerful tongues of saltwater that come from seemingly nowhere, intent on dragging her into the shallows.
Not safe.
It is then that he rises, a wavering equine-form of frothing saltwater, transparent beneath the now-moon washed landscape. Slowly he becomes solid, the splashed pearl and emerald of his coat emerging as he allows the water to drip from him, focusing all of his power into keeping her right where he wanted her. He is not completely harnessing her just yet, for he revels in the realization of the imminent capture. Dark, bottomless eyes stare into the soft coffee-brown of her own, wanting to taste the fear that would be hiding in their irises.
Perhaps she would try to run; he is sure Crevan would find that most delightful. Maugrim was rather curious to see what the wolf-man could do.
m a u g r i m.
@[wound] @[Crevan]
Let me know if anything needs changing! <3