What Happens When you Hunt Alone (Mercury)

by **Sira** on April 14th, 2011, 12:44 am

Timestamp: 7th of Spring, 511 AV
Location: Somewhere in the Unforgiving near Mount Skyinarta

Sira took a slow and cautious step forward, easing her foot down into the foliage as quietly as she could. She had to be silent, even the smallest snap of a twig could ruin everything. Sira took another step, pressing first the ball of her foot down before sinking the rest into the grass. She never let her foot go all the way flat, staying on the balls of her feet. As she took her next step she winced and suppressed a painful grunt as a thorn scraped across her bare thigh. Sira had no clothes to protect her from such things and in fact all she had taken with her when she flew down the mountain was her bow and two arrows which were clipped to it. She hadn't felt like dealing with her full gear, as something inevitably slipped from her talons when she did that. In hindsight though, it might have been worth the trouble.

Sira was no master of moving quietly through the woods for sure, but she at least knew what she needed to do in theory to stay quiet. Putting that theory into practice was much harder than it sounded as Sira discovered when she heard the tiniest snap of a twig. She had been tracking a deer for nearly half a bell and had finally caught up to it, but at the sound of the twig it's head shot up and looked her way. Sira froze, but the deer must have spotted her because it took off running a split second later.

"Petch!"

Sira rushed forward and knocked and arrow drawing back the bowstring and firing off a reckless shot in the direction of he deer. The arrow didn't come anywhere near hitting it's mark, thudding into a tree. Sira hadn't expected to hit the animal, she knew it was a reckless shot, but she had fired it anyway. Sighing in frustration Sira retrieved the arrow and listened as the sound of the deer faded into the underbrush. Things hadn't been going to well so far. First she awoke to the throbbing pains of a hangover, then Sai had stolen Addy away for a sister sister day. That left Sira alone and with nothing to do. The only other people she really associated with weren't close enough friends for her to want to hang out with alone. So Sira had decided to practice her ground hunting. Normally Sira would hunt from the sky, and soon Addy would be up there with her, but she liked to keep her basic hunting skills honed as best she could. Sira had been lucky to come across the deer tracks, and even luckier to have only had to track it such a short distance, but she knew now there was no way she was going to catch it now that it had been alerted to her presence. Sira would have to search for new tracks... Or just cheat and take to the skies until she spotted something.

Deciding against that, Sira stuck to the ground and tried to search for the signs of another animal. She wasn't the best tracker, though her skill as a hunter did involve at least a little tracking. She at least knew what signs to look for to tell if an animal had been in the area. But if it came to more complex things like determining what kind of critter a print belonged to or how old a pile of droppings was, Sira had no idea how to do that and didn't want to know how to identify droppings. Still, tracking was something she did want to improve on, at least the basic stuff anyway. After a while of wandering Sira's keen eyes did finally pick up on something.

by **Sira** on April 14th, 2011, 12:56 am

Sira knelt next to the impression. It looked like what she assumed a track left by a deer hoof would look like, though she couldn't be entirely sure. It could be a goat, a horse, a moose.. Anything else that had hooves, though judging by it's size it most likely was a deer print. Sira's keen eagle eyes easily picked up further signs of the animal's passage, something that would normally have been much more difficult for an inexperienced tracker. While a normal person with no experience would have to constantly kneel and study the ground for subtle signs, Sira could do it without even bending over. Maybe even from up in the trees if she wanted. Being a bird kelvic did have it's perks, but the best vision in the world still didn't give one the knowledge it took to quickly follow a set of tracks. It took Sira a while to determine which direction the deer was traveling and finally she set off in one direction hoping she wasn't going away from the deer.

Sira followed the trail at a slow pace, often loosing it and having to double back and start over from an earlier position. There were many signs to watch out for. An impression here, a crushed leaf there, and at one point she spotted a few brown hairs matching the color of most deer she'd seen. Sira was fairly certain she was heading in the right direction and if she had her bearings right she was pretty sure the deer was heading for the river that ran through the center of the valley. Even if she did lose the deer, she might get lucky and stumble upon it at the water. That was still quite a ways off however, and Sira did not relish the idea of having to walk all the way to the river to catch up to the animal.

Luckily Sira did not have to wait that long. After following the trail for nearly an hour she spotted movement through the trees up ahead. She could just see the white of the deers tail through the underbrush and she quickly froze in place. The deer did not appear to notice her and casually grazed from a patch of grass in a sunny spot beneath the trees. Sira was lucky to be upwind from the deer, so she didn't need to worry about it catching her scent. She just had to be silent, and move into a better position. Gripping her bow tightly Sira knocked an arrow but did not pull the string taut. She cautiously sidestepped to her left, being careful to avoid anything that might make a sound when her weight sunk onto it. Luckily it was spring, not fall, and there weren't as many leaves on the ground, but she still had to be careful. She took another step, she was still in the clear, a second step, the deer didn't notice, a third step, it's ear twitched but it did not look up.

Sira knelt, holding her bow out in front of her. She let out a slow steady breath as her right arm tightened holding the bow in place as her left pulled the string taut. Sweat dripped from her naked body as she cocked her head slightly to the right, sighting down the shaft of the arrow. Her chest rose and fell as she breathed steadily, aiming at the deer. Sira pulled the strong back to her ear, taking final aim. The deer's ears twitched and it's head snapped up but it didn't matter, Sira was too close to miss even if it tried to run. Sira should have realized she hadn't made a sound. She should have seen the signs, she should have heard the forest go silent. She should have been more alert. But Sira had only the deer on her mind. Her eyes saw only the deer at the end of the arrow, her ears heard only the sound of her own breath and the twang of the string as she let go. The arrow whisked through the air and struck true, a perfect shot. The deer went down, Sira silently cheered to herself, but she did not anticipate what came next..

by **Mercury** on April 16th, 2011, 8:03 pm

From behind a set of trees, slithered out a man clad in a heavy wool cloak, his long, clawlike fingers hidden within stiff leather gloves. His wizened face sported a heavy beard and many a pussing cancer and sore. He grinned; it was frightening. His teeth lay crooked behind his thin, cracked lips, almost as if they didn’t belong; his was a feral smirk. His tongue flicked out, licking his dry, chapped lips, at the sight of the many shallow, scarlet cuts on Sira’s bare, pale flesh. His cold eyes, above his beak of a nose, snapped up, from her unembarrassed nakedness, to her pretty face; he rarely cared for the joys of the flesh; he would leave that to his underlings.

He seemed to ooze, not walk, towards Sira. He limped, yet he made no sound as he walked across the foliage littered ground; it was as if he was a shadow, advancing. He finally stopped before Sira, his eyes darting, for only a second, to the deer carcass, before returning his sharp, yet cloudy gaze to Sira’s face, so perfectly framed with ruby curls. The man’s cloudy gray eyes latched on to Sira’s animated sapphire orbs, forcing her into a stare that she could not escape, willingly or unwillingly. His own gaze seemed to fire at the triumph of his dominance. He was taller than Sira, nearing almost 6 feet, but he was quite frail: an emaciated skeleton beside Sira’s solid form. The canopy of trees cast shadows upon his already hooded face, his face aglow with an unhealthy pallor.

His lips parted, releasing a foul gas of breath that seemed to contaminate the air. He limped closer; he was only two arm spans away now. A voice, scratchy and high pitched, cut the silence of the air. “Greetings, fellow hunter. Congratulations on your prize.” His simple nari was heavily accented. And while his tone began amiable enough, it quickly took a sharp turn to a more macabre note. “Are you hunting alone today, my dear?” He continued to hold the uncomfortable, unbreakable eye contact. He already knew the answer; it was obvious, but he was experienced, with experience came hard earned prudence.

Kragoth Dragra :

by **Sira** on April 16th, 2011, 9:57 pm

Sira saw the deer go down, giving herself an invisible nod of approval. It was a clean kill, she wouldn't even have to finish the animal off. Sometimes it was not so, and luck favored neither, leaving the animal suffering and the hunter to finish it off in a more personal manner. But this was not the case, and such things did not really bother Sira anyway. As a predator, she was used to killing her prey, and most often did so with her own talons than with an arrow from afar. When she hunted as an eagle she was like an arrow from above.. one that could change direction if the prey decided to move. It took skill, but so too did hunting with a bow and that was why she had decided to do so.

Sira snapped out of her thoughts as she noticed movement to the side. Someone, or something was approaching. Her reaction was instantaneous, unclipping her second arrow and drawing back the string, turning just so that she was facing the strange creepy man that was approaching. "Stop! Don't come any closer." The strange man continued, and Sira tensed ready to fire if he tried anything. When he spoke it was with a scratchy high pitched voice, breaking of the forest around them. He called himself a hunter, but that didn't seem right to Sira. His body was frail, his skin was pale.. he did not have the look of a hunter. His breath was awful, and she could smell it as close as they were to each other, but she did not move. She could not break eye contact with the horrible looking man, whose every putrid detail her keen eyes picked out perfectly.

"Are you hunting alone today, my dear?"

The question made her uneasy, the way he spoke it and the implications her answer could have if she gave the truth. She was alone, but what if he was an enemy? What if this were an ambush? Her eyes did not move from his, he held her gaze, but was it magic or her own choice that kept them there? Did he keep their eyes locked, or was she watching him and waiting for him to make a move. The man had done her no harm, and Sira was not one for killing people for no reason, but neither had he stopped as she had ordered. Sira knew she should just let go, let the string pop back and send the arrow right into this man's slimy eye socket, but she did not. Something prevented her from firing as she should, and instead she answered his question.

"Yes, I am alone."

by **Mercury** on April 25th, 2011, 2:57 am

“Perfect, my dear. Perfect.” He side stepped, closer to Sira, away from the line of her bow and arrow. Gone was the nasal screech of an ancient throat, only to be replaced by a sonorous, hypnotic whisper, right into the powerless woman’s ear. “I am growing old, my dear. I find my strength fails me at the most inopportune of times, a fate I am sure you have yet to experience in your,” he paused to wipe his shaking palms on the sides of his rob. He continued with a hitch of excitement behind every word. “…most supple stage in life.” He pulled back, almost reluctantly, taking one last, deep breath of her scent. He broke eye contact, for just a moment, to hobble over to a nearby log, his steps still silent yet swift. Using the ends of his robe he dusted off the log and sat down at one end. Before Sira could say a word, or even move, still feeling enraptured by his voic,e he tossed up his hands in a friendly manner, beckoning Sira to him. His voice boomed across the cramped clearing, resonating against the very trees, shaking their shadowed leaves. “Even still. I am sure you are tired after hunting… so far from your city walls. Come now and join me, sit by me here, keep an old man company and make his day. I must be truly blessed by the gods to come across such a heavenly creature. Put down your bow and arrow, the hunt is over my dear, there is no need to carry the trappings, you have proved yourself a most skilled hunter. You are quite safe, now.” Kragoth continued to stare into her penetrating golden eyes, almost daring them to look away. Her nakedness had no affect on him or his plans.

Patience, Kragoth had a limitless store; he waited, not even bothering to count the chimes that Sira fought his not so gentle command; she could try to fight, it didn’t matter to him. He chuckled, cackling, as she finally made her way to his side. There was not much room on the log; she had to sit right by him, the side of her leg against the rough cloth of his robe. He was sure not to break eye contact again, now that she was so close to him. His scaly, bony hands reached into the depths of the inner pockets of his robes, pulling out a worn leather flask and a small package wrapped in cloth. “I’m sure you are hungry; I am starving myself. Come, partake of my meal. It is meager, but I wish to show you my hospitality. Oh how silly of me, I have yet to introduce myself! I am so rude sometimes. My name is Kragoth. What is your name, my dear?” He talked as he unwrapped the knot of the wrapped package, revealing a very appetizing loaf of bread the size of a fist. The delicious, fresh scent wafted to Sira’s nose temptingly. “Come take a bite, I assure you it is as delicious as it smells. I made it myself, come come, you don’t wish to offend me do you?” He offered it to Sira, who took it after a few more chimes of hesitance. He frowned at the time it took. “Please,” His voice dropped its friendly lilt, adopting a raspy whisper. “Don’t insult me my dear. Please, take a bite.” He looked at her, waiting…

by **Sira** on April 29th, 2011, 1:49 pm

Something was wrong with this situation, but Sira could not figure out what. As the strange man moved to her side she lowered her bow, relaxing her arms and letting out the string. He was close, much closer than she would normally have allowed, but Sira did not pull away despite her discomfort. What did she have to fear anyway, there was nothing this frail little man could do to her, was there? Sira could just shft and eat him if she had to, as disgusting as that sounded, so why did she feel like doing what he asked was a bad idea? When the man crossed the clearing and sat on the log, beckoning Sira to join him, she hesitated again. He wanted her to leave behind her weapon and her kill.. The weapon she could replace if she had too, but if she left the deer unattended it might go bad, or some other animal might come along and take it for itself. ...Sira supposed she could live with that though, but still.. Why did he want her to give up her weapon?

Reluctantly Sira did approach the vile little man, but she did not leave behind her bow as he asked. Instead she clipped the arrow back in place and unstrung the bow as she walked. Leaving it behind was a silly idea anyway, what if she spotted another deer? Or what if some wanderer came by and found it and went on a killing rampage? Sira couldn't live with that, and that was how she rationalized going against his request. If asked, she would even explain her reasoning to him, acting as if it were a perfectly normal reason. Sira joined him on the log, her leg brushing against the rough cloth of his robes. It was a little itchy, but Sira didn't want to offend him by scratching her leg, so she just took it. When he offered her the bread she stared down at it.. again it didn't feel right to do as he asked. She didn't know anything about him.. and the bread might be some kind of trick. But what kind of trick could it have been.. it was just bread. Sira finally lifted the bread to her lips, it did smell good, and it would have been rude to defy his request considering he baked it himself. She took a bit of the load and chewed it slowly, allowing the bread to melt in her mouth. It was sweet, fresh, and delicious. All concerns aside Sira smiled and took another bite.

"This is very good, thank you Kragoth. My name is Sira."

Sira took another bite of the bread, setting her bow against the log and holding the loaf in both hands. It was very tasty, and she was very hungry. Originally she was planning on catching a meal before she headed home, but now she wouldn't have to. Maybe she could even bring back two deer instead of eating one of them. Or she could just bring back the one and talk with Kragoth for a while. That seemed like a fairly pleasant idea. For such an ugly man, he sure was nice. To share ones bread with a complete stranger wasn't something people did very often, Sira felt lucky to have met such a man, even if he was creepy looking.

by **Mercury** on May 6th, 2011, 12:03 am

He watched her chew contentedly, even smiling at him, thanking him for his gift; he counted patiently, his timing perfected over the years.

Ten… eleven… twelve… thirteen… fourteen… fifteen…

Without another moment of hesitation Kragoth’s arm shot out behind Sira, effortlessly supporting her sudden dead weight; he was far stronger than he looked. His other arm reached out to catch the half eaten loaf, of poisoned bread, before it hit the ground. Kragoth brought the loaf to his nose, breathing in deep the heady scent of roasted nuts, with the whisp, a hint suggesting something was different – giant wasp stinger. His tongue flicked out, licking up a crumb. He shivered with malicious glee as the taste filled his mouth. He stuffed it back into his robepocket.

By now, the expensive paralytic was coursing through Sira’s veins, sapping the strength from her limbs. She was unharmed, still in perfect condition: she would be able to see, feel, and hear everything he did to her – without the ability to fight back. It had been pure luck that he had stumbled across such a treasure. He muttered a quick word of thanks to the deer that had brought her so close to his camp, which happened to be barely a stone throw away.

His hand was rough, dry like parchment against her bare back; Sira couldn’t even shiver as he pulled her close, pressing his nose into the crook of her neck, breathing in deep her heady scent. “You’re welcome my dearest, Sira. I’m sure you’re worth it… so beautiful, so beautiful.” He muttered into her ear. “Just perfect; so full of life.” He couldn’t help but giggle, a croaking cackle. He stopped abruptly, the sound cut short in his throat. He said her name again, rolling the syllables in his tongue, trying to perfect the pronunciation of Nari name.

Kragoth stood up, pulling Sira up with him. Two weeks, two full weeks he could play with her, his precious rag doll. One hand at her back, the other holding out her left hand, he began to dance with her. He was graceful for such a frail form, effortlessly turning her muscled body, twirling her about until her hair and his robe fluttered in the still air. “Together, we’ll be my dear. I will take you places: You are mine, all mine.” He continued to twirl her until his breathing grew labored, and beads of sweat began to drip from his thin, yellow skin.

It had been so long since the last one. This time he would make sure to be careful…

OOC :

by **Sira** on May 6th, 2011, 7:08 pm

Something was wrong.. Sira couldn't move, not even a twitch. She started to slump, to fall off the log, but Kragoth caught her with his rough dry hand. At first she was confused. Sira wasn't familiar with very many poisons, having never had the need to use one herself. It wasn't good to poison something that was intended to be eaten.. unless you were actually trying to poison somebody as Kragoth had obviously been trying to do. Why had she taken the bread from him? She knew there was something wrong with the situation, yet as if under some spell she had trusted him and done as he asked. The spell was broken now, and the next emotion she began to feel was panic. He was pressing his nose into her neck, saying something about her being beautiful. What was he going to do to her? How long was this going to last? Would the posion eventually kill her, or would she just remain paralyzed?

Kragoth pulled her off the log, dancing about with her like she was a new toy. Belatedly Sira realized that's exactly what she was to him, a warm, fleshy, living, breathing toy that he could do with as he pleased. Panic was quickly replaced by rage as Sira fought against the poison. She was nobody's plaything. She was nobody's slave. Even Aidara could not call herself master. Sira loved her and served her willingly, but she had no master. Kargoth paused, holding her out to look at her, and Sira punched with all her might. The resulting blow was little more than a twitch from Sira's arm, which Kragoth may not have even noticed. As he started to dance with her again Sira continued to struggle but could not get her limbs to move. When he began to tire Sira came up with a new idea. Fighting off the dizziness sh was experiencing Sira mustered all the strength she had and.. POOF!

In a massive swirl of colorful lights and smoke Krogath's doll was replaced by an enormous golden-feathered eagle. The poison, which was enough to paralyze a small human in seconds, wasn't as effective against a large creature like a Wind Eagle. It would buy Sira the precious time she needed to deal with the little monster and make her escape. Sira screeched and raked at Krogath with her talons. If she could get a grip on him she would latch on, if not she would peck at him with her sharp beak. Either way the attack was followed by the ahrd beating of her wings, enough to possibly knock Krogath off balance if he wasn't already down or in her clutches. Sira lifted off the ground, but she could already feel her wing muscles cramping. Adrenaline and physical activity were only making the blood pump the poison through her all the faster, but she had to get away.

Sira flew ow and fast. If she was still holding Krogath she dropped him before passing out of the clearing. She didn't have the strength to get very high, nor did she want to be when she could fly no longer. Sira put as much distance between her and Krogath as she could, beating her wings harder than she ever had before, but she soon felt her body freezing up. She started to lose altitude, brushing the treetops with her talons, and before long her wings froze up completely and Sira tumbled out of the sky, smashing through the tree branches and crashing into the ground. Sira lay there for a moment as the dust settled around her and then sluggishly lifted her head, searching for a spot to hide. The best she could find was a patch of bushes, and she quickly shifted an forced herself to crawl into them. Oh great.. thorns, was the last thing that went through her mind as her body froze up and she lost consciousness, quite possibly even having a concussion from the fall.

OOCIf you want to prolong the fight I can edit the post.. otherwise I guess Sira had escaped.

by **Sira** on May 8th, 2011, 3:26 am

Sira wasn't sure how long it had been when she began to regain conciousness. At first she was confused. She was on the ground, there were thorns rubbing uncomfortable against her arms and back, and it was dark. ...no, not dark, Sira's head was just under a shadow. Perhaps the most disconcerting fact was that she could not move, not even a muscle. She was trapped! That's when it all came back to her, she had been running for her life, trying to escape the horrible man that called himself Kragoth, who had poisoned her and rendered her helpless. But not completely helpless, Sira recalled, she was still able to move a little, though the poison progressively got worse. Sira tried again to move, and it took all her willpower to force her head up and look around. Little did she know, this meant the poison had yet to fully take hold and she had only been out for a moment or two. Sira lowered her head, reasoning that if she moved too much it might speed the poison along, and she didn't want to do that unless she had too.

Somewhere not to far away Sira could hear sounds. Was Kragoth pursuing her, or was there something else nearby? Sira didn't think she would be able to fly again. Whether it was the evil little man or some other creature she had to think of something fast. But what could she possibly do to get herself out of there? Nothing... Sira was helpless. Krogath would catch up to her and take her with him and she would be stuck paralyzed, his toy to do with as he pleased. Sira would have shuddered when she thought of the vile things the little man might do to her, but she couldn't even do that. She had to try something though, so Sira mustered her will once more and planted her hands beneath her, pushing herself onto her knees.

It hurt to move, she had likely injured herself in the fall, and The thorns tore at her skin but she ignored it all. Sira turned her sluggish body around and crawled out of her hiding spot. If her plan was to work she needed to be out in the open. Sira crawled to the spot where she, in her much larger eagle form, had come crashing down through the trees. There was a patch of sunlight coming down through the opening in the canopy, the closest thing to being in the open she could hope for. Sira laid down on her back, staring up into the light and then send out a call. It was a desperate move, Krogath might even pick up on it, but hopefully so too would an eagle or rider or dek or anyone other than the vile man, and they would rescue her.

Help me! Somebody please help.. Moving had made her dizzy, she almost certainly had a confusion, and it was hard for Sira to use her telepathy but she tried again. I can't move! If anybody is out there please help me! It was a desperate move, anybody could hear her call but only someone who knew how to answer could. Even if someone did hear her, they might not find her if they couldn't call back.

OOC :

by **Mercury** on May 8th, 2011, 8:13 pm

Sira’s talons tore Kragoth’s robes, littering the clearing floor with a plethora of vials and wrapped packages; the mage screamed in pain and rage. This was not part of his plan! She tried to grab him, to drag him through the foliage; he was torn between trying to cover his ears from her piercing screeches and trying to tear himself out of her grip. Thankfully the drug began to take more control, fueled by her violent movement. She released him no more than thirty meters from his camp as she continued to fly away, stumbling through the mass of trees. She wouldn’t get far.

“Dykon!” Kragoth yelled, groaning in pain. He brought his hand to his torso, looking at the dark thick, crimson blood that coated his fingers. “Dykon!” He yelled again, his nasal voice piercing the air with its bubbling rage. He wasn’t injured too badly, not even close to anything mortal, but he was not fond of the pain, especially when he wasn’t inflicting it. It took a couple more calls before a large, black wolf came running through a set of bushes, stopping before Kragoth’s feet. “Dycon, took you long enough. She got away. She is a Kelvic as well. Petch. Petch, petch, PETCH!” Kragoth beat his fists against the ground in a frustrated fit. He coughed from the exertion, a spray of blood hitting his bond mate in the face as Dycon transformed.

Dycon calmly wiped the bile away. “Did she eat the poisoned loaf, sir?” He asked stoically, crossing his lean, toned arms across his scarred chest. Dycon was large for a wolf, but not nearly as large as he was as a man. Towering over his prostrate master at an intimidating 6’ 7”, Dycon, clad in nothing, shamelessly bared his wiry muscles and the undeniable evidence of many battles before. His thin lips drew back in a permanent snarl of sparsely veiled rage. His gold eyes, a color of warmth, lacked any feeling, instead displaying nothing but sharp intensity, ready for a hunt at a moments notice.

“Yes. I am not that much of a failure.” Kragoth continued to speak with spittle flying everywhere, in his rage. “Now carry me back to the camp so I can clean myself up. The vagik even had the audacity to rip my petching robe up, scattering everything in my pockets. I’ll make her pay for such insolence…” Horrific thoughts began to flash through Kragoth’s mind – calming him down.

When Dycon finally set his master down before the dying camp fire, he asked with bated breath. “May I go find her now?”

Kragoth waved his hand, preoccupied with his own injuries. “Yes, yes. Go. Just make sure I get her back alive and without too many scars. I give you full permission to hurt her as much as you want as long as she isn’t marked or ruined.”

Dycon was back on all fours, running like a bolt of lightning, even before Kragoth finished speaking.

ooOoo

Rare was the day Kragoth allowed Dycon near his toys alone; she must have royally pissed him off. Dycon would make sure to savor his gift.

Black nose pressed to the wood of Sira’s bow, the one she had left in her desperate escape, Dycon breathed in deep the traces of her scent. He would have preferred a tunic, or anything she had worn, but he remembered his master had said she transformed. She had to be big to have been able to attack his master after being so poisoned. Past experiences, reminded him the toxin was quite effective. Kragoth had been muttering something about flying away. He didn’t know what kind of bird she could have transformed into to be so big. He regretted having run away so quickly, but he was pretty sure his master was far too exasperated to be too much help and if he waited too long there was that chance another would find… his new toy.

The scent was weak, but enough to give Dycon some confidence. He looked around, his keen golden eyes easily catching the set of trees she had rammed through. Since Sira had not been able to fly high enough, mostly crashing through the foliage, Dycon figured he might not even have to rely on scent to find where she had landed. He padded on, quickly, but carefully. His black paws silent on the soft forest ground.

It took him barely twenty chimes to find what he had been looking for. She had gotten further than he had expected. Her blood, the coppery scent, engulfed Dycon’s sensitive nose, filling him with tingling excitement. He sat, waiting behind a cluster of thorny bushes that seemed to populate the area. His shaggy wolf head tilted to the right, as he watched her drag herself out of a pretty bad hiding spot to a clearing. His lips drew back, saliva dripping from his exposed canines, sharp as daggers. She was covered in scratches, light red lines all over her exposed flesh, from the thorns she had crawled to. Dycon waited, trying to understand what she was doing. Her eyes opened wide as if crying for help, but her mouth did not move.

Dycon could tell the poison was finally sinking in. Either way, she still probably wouldn’t have been able to fight him or shift in her weakened state. He padded forward, a feral grin upon his snout. Taking his time, he let the helpless woman take in the sight of him before he attacked. He walked all the way to her face, she could barely twitch now. Gentle, almost motherly, Dycon lapped up her neck, cleaning it of her blood and dirt.

He drew back, once it was all clean and then stared right into Sira’s golden eyes. There was no emotion, no connection, just a slight curiosity. In a second it was replaced with malicious glee, right before Dycon bent down, snapping his maw onto Sira’s exposed neck, digging his teeth into her warm flesh. He didn’t bite hard enough to rip the muscle, but far enough to pierce the skin. Sira may not have been able to move but she could definitely every shot of pain from Dycon’s bite.

Dycon locked his jaw, comfortable with his front paws on either side of her head. It was eerie as the tremor of delight seemed to echo in the black wolf’s low growl.

Dycon :

OOC :