// go get your gun, get your gun //
He’s tense, because a large part of him would rather follow Danta like a lost dog — but he doesn’t get the chance to do it, not as they step out next to each other. The moon filters in, not as bright as it had been before, but the flame Danta casts helps to guide them as they walk.
He does direct the Maverick to the inquiries, a soft recollection of when he’d hunted with Isla. So he seeks it out, and the closer he gets toward where he’s sure the herd might be, he starts to loosen up a little. Perhaps it’s due to the fact he’d be able to let loose, get the inner tension out.
He barely gets out an answer for Danta to say he’s spotted something before he’s pulling away, a low hum before he shifts. Instead of the fyrhund from before, the butcher’s form grows larger and longer, scales and too many teeth glinting in the small fire. Casting one glance back toward the Maverick, the butcher utilizes the speed of his shift to dive through the dune grass, before a herd of ramphires bolts. There’s one, though, that remains, and with a cry of sound it sounds like the butcher has hit his mark.
He does direct the Maverick to the inquiries, a soft recollection of when he’d hunted with Isla. So he seeks it out, and the closer he gets toward where he’s sure the herd might be, he starts to loosen up a little. Perhaps it’s due to the fact he’d be able to let loose, get the inner tension out.
He barely gets out an answer for Danta to say he’s spotted something before he’s pulling away, a low hum before he shifts. Instead of the fyrhund from before, the butcher’s form grows larger and longer, scales and too many teeth glinting in the small fire. Casting one glance back toward the Maverick, the butcher utilizes the speed of his shift to dive through the dune grass, before a herd of ramphires bolts. There’s one, though, that remains, and with a cry of sound it sounds like the butcher has hit his mark.
Astaroth
// and lets find out what it does //
