12-26-2021, 09:10 PM
and i scream as loud as anyone
She is a crooked, feral thing whose senses were carved out of necessity rather than training or war. Her small ears are perked for sounds of movement and she’s eyeing his throat the way she often does anyone else - besides Rive, of course. Her eyes burst long ago and she can’t quite piece together that biting him would do precious little to slaughter him the way she’d like.
Still, she spreads her wings and glides closer. She’s far too big to be silent and the sound of her leather riding the air is easy to catch, as is her talons meeting the wet sand. Rend leaves about two meters between them. That’s usually as close as anything gets before she reacts in time. Even now, it isn’t fear that knots in the pit of her, per say. It is something akin to hunger, but she can’t sink her teeth into it. She just wants to pick the secrets from his bones instead of the meat. A shiver runs down her spine at the thought and her scaled lips tip upward.
A shrug rolls through her shoulders and she doesn’t realize he can’t see it.
“Somewhere new, and also old,” she supposes. Her forked tongue slips out to taste the air.
“What’re you?” she asks, tilting that horned head and sending another thick melding of acid and burnt scales into the ground. The curve of her grin widens into a full smile of crooked fangs as she awaits his answer, eagerly kneading the wet earth beneath her like a pleased feline.
Still, she spreads her wings and glides closer. She’s far too big to be silent and the sound of her leather riding the air is easy to catch, as is her talons meeting the wet sand. Rend leaves about two meters between them. That’s usually as close as anything gets before she reacts in time. Even now, it isn’t fear that knots in the pit of her, per say. It is something akin to hunger, but she can’t sink her teeth into it. She just wants to pick the secrets from his bones instead of the meat. A shiver runs down her spine at the thought and her scaled lips tip upward.
A shrug rolls through her shoulders and she doesn’t realize he can’t see it.
“Somewhere new, and also old,” she supposes. Her forked tongue slips out to taste the air.
“What’re you?” she asks, tilting that horned head and sending another thick melding of acid and burnt scales into the ground. The curve of her grin widens into a full smile of crooked fangs as she awaits his answer, eagerly kneading the wet earth beneath her like a pleased feline.
REND
@nyktos