do you think God stays in his heaven because he, too, lives in fear of what he has created?
Ghaul was never meant to be something beautiful and regal. He was carved from granite and forged from discarded metal, an amalgamation of failures and dead gods alike. But the dying words of all the forgotten titans formed a prayer, an invocation for something greater than them and for more terrible. When he moves, each step leaves a trail of claw marks and the smell of burning forests. But he is the son of the dawn, the Morningstar that guides the hand of fate, and today he is drawn to his brother.
His scent reminds him of Litotes and he hunts it ravenously as he weaves through the gullies and the ditches of Pangea, stepping over ancient squid beaks and sun bleached coral. Those great curled horns turn slowly from left to right as he searches for the smear of bright yellow and red among the blues of a chilly spring. While his brother is charming and debonair, Ghaul is brute force and gnashing teeth. They are two sides of the same coin and his bones hum in delight at their impending meeting.
He pauses to breathe deeply and then he hurries off, his claws tearing deeper tracks into the clay as his wings tuck tight to his back. The morning sun warms him and urges him forward until he spots something meandering at the curve ahead. The wyrm spreads his wings to bring him to a sudden halt while a grin spreads across his face, all crooked teeth and scarred lips. This one. This is his brother, he thinks as his tail flicks eagerly.
He wastes no time skittering forward with a pleased sort of chittering coming from his throat. Ghaul feverishly traces his nose over Draco’s cheek to map his face and he can’t help the laugh that comes bubbling up his throat. Together, they will bring the world to its knees. Empires will topple at their feet and shout prayers of thanks to them for the honor. His nose reaches Draco’s temple and he places a brotherly kiss there before pulling his head back.
“Brother, light to my shadow,” he says with a grin. His talons anxiously paw at the red dust beneath him. “I am Ghaul, devourer of legions.”
@[draco] theyre going to get into SO MUCH trouble together. i can already tell.