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Plutarch walked into Exigo in the now unfamiliar form that he was born in, that of a Warrior and Shaman of the Wolf Tribe. So long had he spent time in other forms to walk on two legs was odd.
He stopped and sniffed the air curiously, nose wrinkled in distaste at the bombardment of unclean scents. No One Eye or Red Death or Orca Whisperer this day.
He continued, a low growl emanating from his throat at those that came too close, the kind of growl that started in one throat and ended in another should the need arise. A low continuous cold emanated from him causing most to shy away even tho the source was not readily apparent. Those that knew of Auril and her chosen and recognized him for what he was moved their children back and cleared way and this, as always, was as it should be.
He took their heat, sapped it to to a greater or lesser degree as they constantly threatened to close in around him in this throng of unclean people.
As the interloper ran into him, the growl raised and the cold increased. The Ignorant One responded by blowing wind from what appeared to be a rather large and unshapely arse in his face as she ran by.
"Surely the Sheep were not that stupid ? " He thought. " Then again, they are just sheepa..."
The film over his eyes deepened into cataracts and the gifts of his Goddess reached out, ice particles forming in the air. She was marked and her heat would fuel him as the lesson of respect was taught yet again. She would run and run and return. Simple prey, he would not need to seek her out, this one would simply run into him again he was sure.
He stopped to deal with the scroll maker and offload various bits if junk the Tribe no longer needed.
The gasp behind him was as if all the breath had been snatched from a body. A soft chuckle escaped him as the mouse found the cat. Shortly there was a dull thud as the body of the interloper locked up behind him.
Still some twenty feet away he casually turned to watch this, the beseeching eyes as the cold ripped her heat from her body, the lungs freezing over and the body shutting down from the hypothermia.
His eyes stayed cold and flat, whited out as he drew her heat into his body. It took only seconds for this prey was weak and he walked away, leaving the Sheep lying still and cold.
They were the Chosen of the Furies and they would be respected, always.
He stopped and sniffed the air curiously, nose wrinkled in distaste at the bombardment of unclean scents. No One Eye or Red Death or Orca Whisperer this day.
He continued, a low growl emanating from his throat at those that came too close, the kind of growl that started in one throat and ended in another should the need arise. A low continuous cold emanated from him causing most to shy away even tho the source was not readily apparent. Those that knew of Auril and her chosen and recognized him for what he was moved their children back and cleared way and this, as always, was as it should be.
He took their heat, sapped it to to a greater or lesser degree as they constantly threatened to close in around him in this throng of unclean people.
As the interloper ran into him, the growl raised and the cold increased. The Ignorant One responded by blowing wind from what appeared to be a rather large and unshapely arse in his face as she ran by.
"Surely the Sheep were not that stupid ? " He thought. " Then again, they are just sheepa..."
The film over his eyes deepened into cataracts and the gifts of his Goddess reached out, ice particles forming in the air. She was marked and her heat would fuel him as the lesson of respect was taught yet again. She would run and run and return. Simple prey, he would not need to seek her out, this one would simply run into him again he was sure.
He stopped to deal with the scroll maker and offload various bits if junk the Tribe no longer needed.
The gasp behind him was as if all the breath had been snatched from a body. A soft chuckle escaped him as the mouse found the cat. Shortly there was a dull thud as the body of the interloper locked up behind him.
Still some twenty feet away he casually turned to watch this, the beseeching eyes as the cold ripped her heat from her body, the lungs freezing over and the body shutting down from the hypothermia.
His eyes stayed cold and flat, whited out as he drew her heat into his body. It took only seconds for this prey was weak and he walked away, leaving the Sheep lying still and cold.
They were the Chosen of the Furies and they would be respected, always.