IP: 24.59.129.5
Posted on August 24, 2017 at 05:18:05 AM by TARQUiN
Running. That was what Quinn wanted to do now. What he was doing now. He ran and ran and ran, but not as a faerie. At the core, perhaps, but right now Quinn was in cheetah form. And it was not merely a form for him, a an ingrained part of his life. It had started to slip away in the chaos of being here, in the pain that haunted him lately; but it held fast and it had eventually clawed it's way out again. Quinn had needed to run, because it had been far too long in not doing so. It made him feel free to be able to let his long legs eat up the distance, push him further and further from where he had started. He doesn't need his super speed right now. He doesn't need any of that while he's a cheetah. Could it make him faster? Yes, it could. But right now it's not all about the speed, but the undiluted feeling of gulping air and being more free than he had been in months.
He cannot believe it's been months already. Months since he had come here, and months even since he had lost what had mattered in his life. He should have seen it coming, knew that his life ran on a never ending circle of the way things were and how it broke. Just because he had realized that choice would not steal away his happiness did not mean that something else would not. Running did not fix everything, but for the moment it had made him think less of where his life had settled. The fact that he simply survived on exploring and searching and trying to find ways to keep himself distracted from the ache that curled at the pit of his stomach. And thinking of his stomach only caused it to growl at him, press him into the mindset for a hunt. The way the thought had come to him was not a good one by any means, and so all bets were off when he turned his attentions to a hunt.
He doesn't think about it when he comes upon the trail, he just goes for it. He runs the targeted prey down and rips into it. He gorges much like a cheetah is known to do, going for all the tasty bits first and working around anything unappealing. When the feral mindset ebbs away, he isn't even bothered by the fact that it was what's left of a faerie that he pads a few feet away from, licking the blood from his nose. Something was coming closer, though, and Quinn sniffs in the direction that it comes from. Then the odd dog thing was there and his upper lip curls back, because done or not, he's still a little territorial over his kill. Instincts kick hard at him and his hackles rise; but the dog creature wasn't the only one moving closer, no. Someone else was walking along, and Quinn notes the shadows with distaste born of knowing shadows had been Raiz's domain, Marius' as well. A low growl coils within his throat.