who we are and all that we're trying to be
So you say he ventured, a taunt loosened within a shake of his head, the reverberations of a goading growl. At least there was room for laughter, doomed and damned to be a rarity in the coming days, so he took what he could, relished in the amusements, before slinking and conforming to an unrelenting contortion of his own.
That she followed was no surprise, given their shifts, their forms, consigned to straightforward melee and ruin. His practices lately had only been against dragons, but Jigano and his manifestations had been far more juvenile than the current status and stature. He caught the remnants of the scent and embarked, a maneuvering machine of impending violence and vitriol, a choking cacophony of silence and calculated entities; gone into the underbrush within a breath, expecting her to do the same.
The warbling of the pheasants up ahead drew him to a standstill, a coiled menace and malice in carved, sculpted muscles made for ambushing ambitions. He watched, conniving, examining, scrutinizing, as the birds pecked at remaining morsels beneath pockets of ice and snow, the hushed platitudes of the Attuned bond perfecting the art of their designations. Do you want to circle around? I can drive them towards you. To trap, to snare, to unwind, unfurl, wreak utter havoc – predilections of predators.
It takes dying to know
How to live as ghosts
