The young demon pulled himself into some cracks and away from yet another failed attempt at hunting. He had thought he had caught the wolfess off guard but he was wrong. He spotted the small slender wolfess wandering around above the crags. Her black form so inticing and it made him drool and desire the flesh she had. She fought back though, she knew he was there and he had holes in his neck and body. It was almost like she was going to eat him, tear him limb from limb. He had gotten a good hold of her as well but she was fast and seemed to never stop moving on her paws. All he could remember was her scent of blood and iron and that one single bright golden eye. He growled slightly, wheezing and limping about blood soaking his white chest and black and mottled russet and white neck. He was tired and breathless and he was greatful she got distracted so he could slip away into the shadows from once he came.
Not yet on his own had he had a successful hunt of a wolf, he craved their flesh and blood, but for now a single rat that had the misfortune of crossing his path was now gripped in his maw. He walked falling into a little shelter within the cave he had found. Water dripped lightly above him and he pressed himself as deep as he could into the shadows his handsome figure curling up, still wheezing lightly. He hurt and even the moment of quenching the pain in his stomach ripping and tearing the meager flesh of the rat he still felt the burning pain his the luscious fur of his neck and shoulders.
He tore and ripped and the flesh did little to settle the feeling in his gut that gripped him the desire for flesh so warm and sweet that was the flesh of his own species but he could do little now. It was disgusting, but for the time his hunger was settled allowing him to relax for a moment and rest against the cool wall and press his bleeding neck against the stone. The cold felt good to him he hated it though. The pain was so easy to ignore with the promise of flesh before him but now, unsatisfied and filled he found it a very overwhelming feeling. He didn’t wish to move he wished to cause other things pain but each movement caused a jolt most unnatural. That females daggers had been sharp, much more so than the one he had attempted to devour months before.
For now he had to do his best to ignore it, to heal and then hunt again. He could not go back to the true demon, the shadow and his protector for they did not wish to see him. The witch would not help him hunt either. He would have to find weaker prey or someone to help him as it used to be. Someone to help him. He needed this he needed someone that his father had a mate a partner to hunt with to cause more successes in his challenge. How though, it did seem many were eager for flesh and that black female he had attacked likely seemed the best choice, she had a hunger too, she tore rather than ripped. As seen by the thin lines everywhere on him.
For now he would rest, perhaps the small red one he had found as child would help him, he did not remember her weakness, too young to understand she would not be suitable at all. Better a meal than a partner. For now he cured up and bled and wheezed, tired, hurt and not content in his hunger but for now rest… that was what the body of the young demon required.
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