Hungry for the kill, but this hunger, it isn't you

[toilandendure]

01
"You gonna eat that?"

Guy looks (and smells) homeless. Ratty hoodie over similarly ratty jeans; but he's big, brawny, face dirt and grease-smeared as if he's been rooting around in the Underground tunnels. But despite his altogether imposing physique and absolute inability to ken the social laws which govern personal space, he projects an air of almost polite harmlessness. Like an over-friendly dog who can't help but shove his big nose into someone else's business.

And he's staring hard at whatever nosh you happen to be mid-bite of.


02 / Full Moon
So he didn't get to see his witch in time for a dose to calm the beast, or duck onto a train headed outward of London. And now he's paying the price, and making others pay it too, hunting hard in the derelict shipping quarter he uses for his home in the unclaimed lands northeast of the river bend. You might come across the snarling, savage thing muzzle-deep in someone's loose dog, white teeth crunching through meat and bone.

Or worse: he could be hunting you.

[ Hop in with whatever you like, will certainly be adding more, and can do so on request! ]

Comments

c: yesss

[toilandendure]

Her foot crunched on loose gravel over the old road, and he lifted his great head from where it'd been buried ears-deep in the abdominal cavity of the selfsame dog she'd been searching for. The body was so fresh that its ripped body steamed in the dark, too warm for the chill which came after a fresh drizzle.

The wolf's face was gore-splattered, and his red tongue compulsively licked noisily at his chops. Even the blood was too good to waste on these fat-fed, mostly-sedentary city creatures.

But his yellow eyes lit on the girl, and his hackles rose stiffly up over his back and neck, his back hunching while his head lowered in clear menace. Black lips lifted off of teeth licked cleanly white again, and a growl rumbled between his ribs, loud and low as distant thunder.

i'm not sorry one bit

[warmheartedly]

Human instincts are hard to let go, dead or not. She was concentrating looking so hard for the missing canine, she's became more focused on the real world and, as a byproduct of her drive, that made her more connected to her environment. She should have kept track of that. It meant she was making more noise, drawing more attention to herself but she doesn't and now its too late.

Did you ever just regret making a choice?

She does in the moment the wolf's -- are they a wolf? that can't be a wolf. they're so big and vicious looking and she knows animals around here are tough but goodness the size of their teeth and their everything -- eyes lock on hers.

Freezing up, wide-eyed, Clara does the next best thing she thinks to do: Immediately flee from sight and danger by zipping behind the closest thing she can hide, something big and hulking and completely shields her from that yellow-eyed gaze. In the back of her mind, there's the knowledge that she can simply pop right back into the safety of the coffee shop, her original haunting grounds, but the basic and born human instincts she has is hard to deny. More so if in the face of danger that comes in the form of claws and fur.