10-05-2022, 10:45 PM
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[sup]© tikki[/sup]SOMEONE TO HEAR YOUR PRAYERS-
// The first seven paragraphs are essentially filler, the only thing that is relevant is the last paragraph of him walking into the town -- And a minor trigger warning for blood //
With a grunt the Xenosmilus forced a fallen tree up from the ground, securing it's roots with his will and flinching at the blood that trickled down from his nose. The land was still sodden, and there was only so much he could do. Tiredness clung to his face in the form of taught frown lines and baggy eyelids, and every now and then he reconsidered his immortality. He reconsidered his place in the group, his rank, his entire existence. It seemed so useless, with how Inferno seemed to consistently get herself, and the group, into trouble and Agrimony either refusing or being unable to help reel her in. Frankly, he was exhausted.
When a stranger's scent reached his nose, and his ears picked up the rustling of a bush nearby, he forced a snarl. "Who are you. Trespassers are not welcome-" he was interrupted by the sudden force of something slamming into him, staggering him back and making him let out a gutteral sigh. "So you're either a feral animal, or you're stupid. Which one is it." He shook his mane and stared at the lion. It's fur was a natural brown-ish shade, and he huffed.
"Lions do not naturally belong in the cold. Get out of here, and maybe I'll let you live." He threatened, readying himself. The lion snarled and lunged for him, and he went at them with ramming speed. His head collided with their chest and their claws collided with his neck, and the two tumbled into a brawl across the damp earth.
The fight seemed pretty even, but with Byriath's energy already expended on fixing the world around him, he was getting overwhelmed. It was humiliating. It fueled his fighting mood and he raked claws against the enemy's back, and received a claw to the face. More scars for this body. He roared, kicked upward with his hind legs, and scrabbled to his feet while the other scrabbled to face him.
"You want a fucking fight!? Well, HERE YOU GO." He screamed, charging while his body changed shape. It became more of an african lion, with large bat wings and a shaggy mane. His face was a porcelain white and his mane was a tricolor mix of red, grey, and black. Black claws scored against flesh, staining white paws red.
He dove for the jugular, something not uncommon for him to do, but the way he went for it was unnatural. Violent, wild. Vicious. Byriath bit down on the soft flesh and fur that was exposed just beneath the lower jaw and sank his sharp teeth into the neck of his opponent. As their struggling weakened, Byriath felt the warm blood fill his mouth and he swallowed.
It was a feeling he had only felt once before, in another world, perhaps a dream. Righteous and pure. Life-giving and prosperous. He drank his fill and let go, letting the body drop limply to the floor. He groaned, wiping his face of the blood that stained his maw. It was proving hard to get rid of, so he grumbled and started back for camp.
-----------End of filler hee-hoo ----------------
He marched with heavy paws, wings folded around him and creating a cloak-like shape, and soon enough his bloody form had entered the town. His mane fell over his red eyes and he lifted his head to sigh. Bustling and busy. He had not yet noticed the concerned and worried looks of NPC Wanderers who spotted the blood soaked paws and maw of this seemingly strange lion.
With a grunt the Xenosmilus forced a fallen tree up from the ground, securing it's roots with his will and flinching at the blood that trickled down from his nose. The land was still sodden, and there was only so much he could do. Tiredness clung to his face in the form of taught frown lines and baggy eyelids, and every now and then he reconsidered his immortality. He reconsidered his place in the group, his rank, his entire existence. It seemed so useless, with how Inferno seemed to consistently get herself, and the group, into trouble and Agrimony either refusing or being unable to help reel her in. Frankly, he was exhausted.
When a stranger's scent reached his nose, and his ears picked up the rustling of a bush nearby, he forced a snarl. "Who are you. Trespassers are not welcome-" he was interrupted by the sudden force of something slamming into him, staggering him back and making him let out a gutteral sigh. "So you're either a feral animal, or you're stupid. Which one is it." He shook his mane and stared at the lion. It's fur was a natural brown-ish shade, and he huffed.
"Lions do not naturally belong in the cold. Get out of here, and maybe I'll let you live." He threatened, readying himself. The lion snarled and lunged for him, and he went at them with ramming speed. His head collided with their chest and their claws collided with his neck, and the two tumbled into a brawl across the damp earth.
The fight seemed pretty even, but with Byriath's energy already expended on fixing the world around him, he was getting overwhelmed. It was humiliating. It fueled his fighting mood and he raked claws against the enemy's back, and received a claw to the face. More scars for this body. He roared, kicked upward with his hind legs, and scrabbled to his feet while the other scrabbled to face him.
"You want a fucking fight!? Well, HERE YOU GO." He screamed, charging while his body changed shape. It became more of an african lion, with large bat wings and a shaggy mane. His face was a porcelain white and his mane was a tricolor mix of red, grey, and black. Black claws scored against flesh, staining white paws red.
He dove for the jugular, something not uncommon for him to do, but the way he went for it was unnatural. Violent, wild. Vicious. Byriath bit down on the soft flesh and fur that was exposed just beneath the lower jaw and sank his sharp teeth into the neck of his opponent. As their struggling weakened, Byriath felt the warm blood fill his mouth and he swallowed.
It was a feeling he had only felt once before, in another world, perhaps a dream. Righteous and pure. Life-giving and prosperous. He drank his fill and let go, letting the body drop limply to the floor. He groaned, wiping his face of the blood that stained his maw. It was proving hard to get rid of, so he grumbled and started back for camp.
-----------End of filler hee-hoo ----------------
He marched with heavy paws, wings folded around him and creating a cloak-like shape, and soon enough his bloody form had entered the town. His mane fell over his red eyes and he lifted his head to sigh. Bustling and busy. He had not yet noticed the concerned and worried looks of NPC Wanderers who spotted the blood soaked paws and maw of this seemingly strange lion.
[color=red]-SOMEONE WHO CARES!
BYRIATH-COALITION-FALLEN GOD OF VIOLENCE, CRUELTY, AND MALICE
THE WORLD THAT HARDENS AS THE HARSHER WINTER HOLDS --
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BYRIATH ATOKENSIS - XENOSMILUS - LONER - ATTACKS IN UNDERLINED ITALICS.