Romance is in the air...this is probably the most beautiful and scenic place in Blossom Forest. For the athletic and determined to come with their mates, for time away from pups. Only adults may come here; some of the ledges are too far apart for teens or pups to cross and some too high to scale.
Wolf in Sheep’s Skin IP: 174.233.17.125 Posted on September 27, 2019 at 01:22:44 PM by Draven
He stalked through the underbrush with a snarl, tossing his head to push aside the heavy, dew laden branches. Petite droplets showered his back, but he hardly noticed it. He was hunting. Being a vampire came with a lot of perks, but it also came with a lot of complications. Due to his almost nonexistent heartbeat along with his lowered metabolism, he rarely had to feed, only about once every three months. It worked out to about once every season for some reason. Vampires were a complicated, but highly evolved species that worked extremely well, even when basically starved. Now, it was not that he did not want to feed more often than once a season - he did. The hunger was almost constant. He would engorge himself on the blood of his victims every day if he could. But the true minimum to sustain himself was once every three months. And somehow, for some reason, he had yet to feed this season, and he could feel the toll of this decision weighing heavily upon him. Hunger tore at him from the inside, threatening to rip out his own soul and eat it for breakfast. So hungry was he that he had even tried once again, but failed of course, to sustain himself on the blood of measly herbivores. But as soon as the rabbit had touched his stomach after passing through his esophagus, it had immediately been thrown back up in a pile of undigested gore. Even though that ill fated attempt had happened yesterday, even thinking of the meal sent waves of rolling nausea through Draven. But it had taught him a valuable lesson-apparently when he reached the near end of his starvation, common sense and logic flood from his mind quicker than any of his victims ever had.
And so he was being as cautious as he could – if he saw any herbivore he gave them a wide berth so that he would not attempt to feed him again, not trusting his own body to do as he pleased. And that was hard-his mind had always been his greatest asset, and now it was failing him. But he was hoping that he was in luck – he had caught onto the trail of another wolf, a loner by the scent of him. He slowed now, his snout reaching through the branches just enough to allow his eyes, glowing bright crimson with hunger, to peer through at the sleeping form he had tracked to this grove. Large heaps of saliva dripped from his things as he salivated, his extended things pressing against his bottom lips as he clinched his jaw. What would he hurt first? A limb so he couldn’t flee? The skull and deeper, the brain, for a quick kill? Or would he go straight for a large vessel so that this poor unsuspecting hessian would suffer while Draven fed? Even while he contemplated it, his body was moving, silent and stealthy it’s reacted without his command. It was as if he was a passenger in a car whose driver had pushed the gas pedal all the way to the floor. All he could do was sit by and watch. Watch as he raced to the sleeping form and towered over him. Watch as his fangs slid into the soft area by the inside of the thigh, piercing the femoral artery, sending blood spatter everywhere. The blood made him drunk immediately, so much so that he didn’t stop drinking when his victim woke… Replies: There have been no replies.