the descent to hell is easy

death incarnate , exotican , no progeny

He knows what he must do for his clan, though there is less urgency for it as another desire vies for his attention. Hunger.

The pale beast lounges restlessly at the twisted, raised roots of a large tree, his elongated tail beating against the dry earth once or twice as he determines what should be done. Dust rises and falls in small clouds as his movement disturbs the ground beneath his tail and far in the distance the sound of something shuffling through the undergrowth captures his attention. His graceful yet stern features are alert to the possibility of a quick meal to sate his hunger. Eyes of black and red scan the horizon as he slowly begins to sit up, his tall figure giving him an advantage over the dense bushes that could interrupt any line of sight.

The wind is not on his side but it does not matter that he cannot catch their scent. He can sense the heat from the animal and when he focuses closely enough there is the red-hot figure of a juvenile deer. It won’t fill him up, but it will be enough to keep his hunger at bay for a little while longer.

He rises to all four paws, with dark claws digging impatiently into the earth, and begins to maneuver toward the deerling. He knows that he is not the fastest but he has endurance, strength, and impeccable flexibility if need be. As long as he can successfully get close enough to the creature then all else will play smoothly. He is careful not to make much noise, especially as the underbrush becomes denser, and pauses to watch every now and then as he draws nearer. The juvenile is inexperienced and likely to make a mistake if and when it discovers that it is being hunted; he counts on that to give him another advantage.

When the deer is within a few meters he initiates his attack, using his powerful hind legs to propel himself from the bushes and on top of his prey. The deer panics and begins to jump one way before changing its mind and moving in another, unsure of where is the best escape. That moment of hesitation was its deathwish. Hyperion’s front paw was able to rake along its lower side and catch at the flank before his jaws wrapped around the top of its back. He crunched down until the sounds of popping and breaking paralyzed his prey, causing it to collapse beneath his weight as he moved the rest of himself on top of it. Jaws dripping with saliva reached for the neck as he pinned the face down with one paw and mercifully ended the young deer’s life quickly.

For the time being, he was content, and began to delve into the abdomen of the corpse. It was easy to make quick work of something so small and his ravenous hunger wouldn’t allow him to take his time anyway. As he was indulging in licking the blood from his paws, the soft sound of someone moving nearby had his ear twist in recognition. Perhaps it was one of his clan. No matter who they were they had about thirty seconds to reveal themselves before he begrudgingly rose to seek them out.