Through the darkness, the giant went. He was nearly lost within the shadows of the forest, apart from the sun bleached skull he wore upon his own. He moved with no concern for silence. Subconsciously he monitored the terra beneath cloven hooves, feeling for any sudden changes in turf, and auds constantly flicked and turned on his poll, listening for anything he would hold any concern for. The brute didn't need vision to see. His world was a collection of sounds and scents and touch, a map of sensations. He did not require vision to traverse the forest, and his empty sockets hidden beneath his mask bore no weakness for him. 

Soon he noticed an abrupt change as his legs were no longer brushed with rough branches of low lying plants, and the air seemed to open (sounds seemed clearer here, as the croons of a nearby owl no longer seemed muffled by the dense flora and trees around him). In the the distance, the howls and cries of hunting wolves provided a haunting melody. He stopped within the meadow, no knowledge of the glowing fireflies that danced from his steps, or of the waxing moon that peaked in the glittering sky above him. Even if he had been able to see what sprawled around him, he would not be bothered to enjoy something as frivolous as stars and beauty of an unforgiving world. He could appreciate, however, the break in the sweltering Tallsun heat that night provided. He paused in the center of the meadow, nostrils flared and dragging in the rich scents of the soil, the trees, the honeysuckle. 

He turned his neck, thick neck bowing as he touched his nose to his tail. The softness of his maw met the smooth shell of the egg nestled within the safety and softness of his hair. The brute was far from delicate. Crafted from darkness, the cold and cunning creature that he had become was not an ideal caregiver for something as fragile as an egg. But something within the matte shell called to him, urged him to provide it with safety and he would be rewarded. He snorted, a scowl crossing his face as he pulled away from it. 

Ears flicked easternly, and his head turned to follow. A pained and pathetic screeching filled the hollows of his ears. Breaking into an easy trot, the stallion left the sanctuary of the meadow and continued back into the thicket. The hoarse whimpers altered his direction, sides brushing against massive trunks as he wound through the timber. Ears pivoted and flicked, discerning easily the actual sounds versus the echoes that bounced off of the trees. He slowed to a walk as the gurgling whines confirmed the injured creature was before him. The aroma of blood and death stuck to the velvet rimming his nostrils. 

Morir's head dropped low, seeking to get a good scent. Snapping jaws gave stern notice to avoid the head of the creature. The black brute knew the smell, as he had found it clinging to the dead that had followed the howls and barks of hunting pack. This creature held no danger. It was alone, and death was close. The wolf lay on its side, golden eyes wide with terror. Jaws were stretched agape, lined with shining white teeth, blood bubbling and oozing from its throat. Ragged breaths were pulled in through a crushed windpipe, as a strong kick from a hunted stag had met its aim. An occasional whine escaped the dying animal. No strength was left in its bones. No energy remained to bring the creature back onto its paws, no spirit remained to urge the creature to pursue its pack. They had abandoned him here. He was of no use. A crippled beast, left to wait for the end. 

The giant pulled away, face turned to the fallen hunter. "What a beautiful night for it to end," he mused, voice deep and even. He was answered by a gurgling growl from an unknowing beast. "Though, I'm sure it is difficult for you to agree. It's a shame you must be alone, forsaken and abandoned by those like you." A frown touched upon his lips, and an unknown sensation flickered briefly in his chest. (Was it understanding? Pity? A painful memory?) "Unfortunately, no reaper is here, only me." 

The stallion stepped forward, dragging the longest of his horns down the rib cage of the wolf. The wild creature's breaths were shallower now, lungs drowning in the blood that didn't pool around it's gaping mouth. He counted each rib, feeling them with some difficulty beneath tight muscle. He found his spot, horn pressing against the pelted beast. "We are similar, you and I," he whispered.  "Only difference is, no one has ever shown me mercy." Long skewer was thrust between narrow ribs, sharp point finding a struggling heart. With that, it was over.

The giant turned away, and into the shadows he disappeared, slipping back into the arms of the waiting night.

""
OOC// He's back! He'll probably end up going Outcast, but that doesn't mean we can't have some good old fashioned Threshold fun!