We Shift, Call Of The Wild, Fear In Your Eyes
It's Later Than You Realized
Tuesday, March 14th ~ Late Evening/Night
He was in there. Hidden away and trying to deny what he was. They both were, he could sense it. They were to blame, needed reminding of their place, to take responsibility for the failings of the past. He couldn't reach them here, couldn't find a way in. In anger he made another attempt to scale the walls of the fortress they had sequestered themselves in, giving a feral cry as he fell to the ground, claws no match for the stone.
Eyes opened as he rose off the ground, aches of the body fading. The nervous shifting of animals called attention and he paused as he caught their scent. Fur - blood, rushing through their veins as adrenalin coursed - but there was more.... Lingering, hanging onto his senses and teasing... They smelled of his mate, his chosen one.
For this they would die.
He tore across the grounds, sounds of fury erupting, As he leapt into the pen the skittish animals made sounds of protests and panic. Sweet sounds - pleading, begging, recognizing him as one to be feared, knelt before. They moved about the enclosure, desperate for release, battering the rails. He tore them, limb from limb until the noises ceased, standing sticky and painted with blood, triumphant over his kill.
At the sound of a rustle his head snapped up and yellow eyes made out the faint form of thestrals, drawn by the carnage. His hunger and anger unabated, their white gleaming eyes reflected the moon above, mocking him. Snarling he turned and ran into the dark, toward the faint sounds of more prey to be had.