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07-14-2012, 06:23 AM
[ You seemed lonely. :< Here, have a cat! ] He'd left the young creatures to their bickering; the mare had stalked off on her own anyway, leaving the sullen colt with the curious one. The sullen colt had stalked off, too, but not in the direction of his sister, offering the curious colt to come along. The Foothills. The sullen colt had gone north. Belial had gone south. And so here he was. He'd drifted into the forest - an unknown forest, but as the rest of the land withered he was glad for his choice. The red pool at its center was still fresh, still deep and cool, slaking his thirst with ease each time he visited it. The sun beat mercilessly on the surroundings, but deep in the heart of this ancient forest it was cool, shadowy. Prey had fled here too, so hunger was not a problem for him. Really, the drought was quite the fortune for him. The deer were weak with dehydration, slow with it, and he was stronger, faster, in better shape - his life was easy, as long as he didn't hunt deep in the forest's heart, where things were still healthy. The large smilodon had avoided company since the Threshold encounter, and had been content to do so. He was lying with his large paws across a dead doe's back, gorging on the fresh kill, when he became aware of a presence. The moonlight cast the world in silver, and with a low grunt he came up on all four. He sensed no threat, but gathered up his carelessly splayed wings close to his body, clutching them against his broad chest. Up ahead, on as much of a ridge you'd find in the forest, a ghastly shape formed; dead leaves raised itself into a whirlwind, into a wolf, and Belial stared at it with suspicion... but it blew away, a howl lingering on the air, sweeping through the ghastly forest and stirring his fur. In its stead came a slim mare, not with horns like the others. Her fur was dull even in the light, like matted steel; he caught a flash of vivid orange eyes as she fell where the wolf had stood, rolling madly in the leaves before coming to her feet. She was beautiful in her madness. The winged cat stood, staring dumbly; blood was smeared across his muzzle, running down the useless length of his canines. There was a hollow-eyed look of surprise in his blue eyes, his stance more haphazard than wary - his right wing hung lower, somewhat unfurled, the joint just above the ground. Belial kept staring, wondering what on earth he'd just witnessed. |
