Darwin
H U N G ER
Each stride delayed by her BLOOD. At once dropping to all fours where it was scented. Pridelessly devoured what little there was off the stone in her wake. Like following a trail of breadcrumbs, mindless. Only in the moment and nowhere else, bloodlust a possession that would not be shaken until it had its fill.
Some gaps too narrow to fit through, and so another way was found. These tunnels vastly unknown, only BLOOD and the smell of it providing a set goal. Go where there is blood. Follow its smell, devour it when you can. Tiny puddles slurped up in taut fingers curved like claws. Running, running. Bounding forward in whatever way was possible. Delays in motion, a body needing to pause and turn and twist to slide through narrowed crevices.
And then there was freedom.
Into the open air, cooler, even slightly, than the depths of the crimson falls.
An abrupt halt. Bare feet skiing across the hard, sharp-edge surface as golden eyes searched for the crow. Or ANYTHING that moved. Anything alive that would offer a KILL.
Movement, then, on high. Circling above, the same white crow that had led a deadly chase through tunne;s and into the open. And then it was off again, darting too high to catch… for now. A calculating gleam in bloodthirsty eyes, seeking the advantage a constant for this predator. Crocodile-like, viciously intelligent.
Up the ridge the crow went, and the Ancient was sure to follow. No hesitation, climbing where possible. Slow and weak for now, so HUNGRY, muscles already aching from eternal stillness to sudden motion. And yet hunger forced the body onward, would not, could not, let it stop. No time for rest, no opportunity to sleep when the ONLY important thing now was
More than once there were slips, slides. A snarling bellow down below, FRUSTRATION as the crow remained well beyond reach and only offered the smallest patters and droplets of blood. All of which were now ignored. Honed on the small creature with even greater focus, higher and higher Darwin climbed. Nares flared wide as the top of the ridge was reached.
And the pace went from slow and stumbling to a chaotic jog, another snarl tearing thunder-like toward the white crow.
Some gaps too narrow to fit through, and so another way was found. These tunnels vastly unknown, only BLOOD and the smell of it providing a set goal. Go where there is blood. Follow its smell, devour it when you can. Tiny puddles slurped up in taut fingers curved like claws. Running, running. Bounding forward in whatever way was possible. Delays in motion, a body needing to pause and turn and twist to slide through narrowed crevices.
And then there was freedom.
Into the open air, cooler, even slightly, than the depths of the crimson falls.
An abrupt halt. Bare feet skiing across the hard, sharp-edge surface as golden eyes searched for the crow. Or ANYTHING that moved. Anything alive that would offer a KILL.
Movement, then, on high. Circling above, the same white crow that had led a deadly chase through tunne;s and into the open. And then it was off again, darting too high to catch… for now. A calculating gleam in bloodthirsty eyes, seeking the advantage a constant for this predator. Crocodile-like, viciously intelligent.
Up the ridge the crow went, and the Ancient was sure to follow. No hesitation, climbing where possible. Slow and weak for now, so HUNGRY, muscles already aching from eternal stillness to sudden motion. And yet hunger forced the body onward, would not, could not, let it stop. No time for rest, no opportunity to sleep when the ONLY important thing now was
FOOD
More than once there were slips, slides. A snarling bellow down below, FRUSTRATION as the crow remained well beyond reach and only offered the smallest patters and droplets of blood. All of which were now ignored. Honed on the small creature with even greater focus, higher and higher Darwin climbed. Nares flared wide as the top of the ridge was reached.
And the pace went from slow and stumbling to a chaotic jog, another snarl tearing thunder-like toward the white crow.
D E V O U R
