DEIMOS
the resurrected sword
Meat. Things to go with it. The Sword nearly suggested he could simply make a container, and contort some water within, but Ronin was already off – so he called after him. “Let me know if that does not work, and we can try something else.” Perhaps it wouldn't be necessary anyway. With a firm nod, as he was not of the gathering flora type (likely it’d end up being poisonous and they’d have a whole other mess on their hands), he, much like Remi, opted for carnivore tendencies.
Leaving Zuriel at the hut, he shifted into his hellhound expanse, and with Belial above, began to scout for some capable food. Luckily, swamps seemed to attract a variety of animals, and life amidst the water was no exception. With a ferocious entanglement of wings – for the young peryton had spotted something in the shallows of the nearby liquid, Deimos slunk along in his predator prowess, following after the unknown, unfamiliar scent of the gilled musk deer.
It didn’t seem bothered by them at all; content, chewing on its vegetation, glancing the other way. Something in his chest loomed in misgivings – but the animal wouldn’t go to waste. There was always a purpose in slaying.
So he launched, intending to grab hold of its neck with strong jaws and sharpened teeth, hoping to end it all instantly, then drag it back to the hut.
--
Deimos shifts into his hellhound form, and along with Belial, scouts out a gilled musk deer. Deimos tries to finish it off quickly, then drag it back to the hut.
Leaving Zuriel at the hut, he shifted into his hellhound expanse, and with Belial above, began to scout for some capable food. Luckily, swamps seemed to attract a variety of animals, and life amidst the water was no exception. With a ferocious entanglement of wings – for the young peryton had spotted something in the shallows of the nearby liquid, Deimos slunk along in his predator prowess, following after the unknown, unfamiliar scent of the gilled musk deer.
It didn’t seem bothered by them at all; content, chewing on its vegetation, glancing the other way. Something in his chest loomed in misgivings – but the animal wouldn’t go to waste. There was always a purpose in slaying.
So he launched, intending to grab hold of its neck with strong jaws and sharpened teeth, hoping to end it all instantly, then drag it back to the hut.
--
Deimos shifts into his hellhound form, and along with Belial, scouts out a gilled musk deer. Deimos tries to finish it off quickly, then drag it back to the hut.
under the bludgeonings of chance
my head is bloody, but unbowed
my head is bloody, but unbowed
