09-15-2021, 01:23 AM
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Once, a very long time ago Etojo would have shown more restraint. But the deepest parts of the forest had changed him wild. The change ran deeper than flesh, it was all of him, flesh and mind. He'd become a beast with little more than basic thought, he acted on instinct, black or white. There was no grey, no reasoning, no commonsense - some would say he'd lacked that anyway, but it was much simpler now, rended basic. And so this reckless, headlong charge of his had one purpose. Get the boy, get his wings. The icy breeze licked his face, chest and sides as he cut through the snow, Get the boy, get his wings… little chunks of ice swirling from the cut of his hooves in his wake. Get the boy, get his wings… the boy turned towards, Etojo could read the surprise in his eyes and he barrelled closer still. He was almost there, his mouth opening in anticipation, his lips peeled back in a glorious open snarl flashing yellowed fangs. Except the boy fluttered up. Suddenly and unexpectedly. The boy fluttered up, and the space that was between them switched from horizontal to vertical and instinctively, without thought for the futility of it, Etojo launched himself upright from his haunches, snapping at the air only to feel the jolt of his own teeth as his mouth clamped shut over nothing. The boy’s hooves dangling tantalising close just out of reach as he flitted to and fro above his head. "You look pretty angry for a tree." His orange eyes flashed with an impossibly dark anger. The taunt cutting deep. He knew what he was, could see his hideous face reflected in the water whenever he scoured the river's edge for a dead and rotting meal. He did not need to be told nor reminded. "Get down." He growled, loud enough so as the raging water could not drown out his ugly rasp of a voice. "Now." It was not that the boy had done anything wrong per se, but rather the fact he existed as he did, winged and flaunting of it. The golden parts of the boys wings glistening as they caught the winter sun, almost as if they were taunting him. Who knew what other abominationable abilities lurked beneath that golden speckled hide. Dangerous. Unpredictable. A threat. That's what the boy was. And it was rather ironic that it did not seem to matter that he himself had become exactly what he dispised. "Everything." He muttered faintly, more to himself than the boy. The boy's wings casting moments of shadow across his brow. The boy's wings… there was an old memory of someone else's wings, a memory strong enough which made him think unnaturally deeper. And Etojo had the sudden thought of where there was one, there were many. He wasn't fond of the idea of it, conversing with the enemy. Nor was he certain he even had the words now, much time had past. "Come down." He demanded again, softer, still unfriendly, but less of a threat. "We talk." |
@Picard