1/7/2025, 9:31 AM
He is too weak to fight, lest he might have considered her an easy meal.
As it is, the cruel curl in his belly transcends hunger in favor of the raw, desperate need for rest. And his mind is now so plagued by loneliness that even the company of a small, ink-blot of a creature seems preferable to the silent shake of the aspen trees and the howling of wintry wind. As Blair's soft voice echoes through the hollow, Casavir leers forward, turning his head until he spots her among the frost.
You don't look so good.
A barely-noticeable smile ghosts upon his lips—small, cruel.
Worn, weary, delirious to the point that he suspects her a figment of his imagination. He's never seen a creature so small and so bold, so dark against the alabaster snow—as if hewn from night itself. He could swallow her in one bite, if it pleases him; but he suspects it is a fate she might not allow so easily. So he braces himself against the tree further, and its trunk creaks beneath his added weight.
Despite his suspicions, her appearance is noticeably corporeal, and her scent carries a twinge that is markedly feline. Perhaps she knows more of this place than he does, for even he cannot remember how he had first wandered here. Perhaps he is a luckier man than he suspects.
As it is, the cruel curl in his belly transcends hunger in favor of the raw, desperate need for rest. And his mind is now so plagued by loneliness that even the company of a small, ink-blot of a creature seems preferable to the silent shake of the aspen trees and the howling of wintry wind. As Blair's soft voice echoes through the hollow, Casavir leers forward, turning his head until he spots her among the frost.
You don't look so good.
A barely-noticeable smile ghosts upon his lips—small, cruel.
I suppose I do not.
Worn, weary, delirious to the point that he suspects her a figment of his imagination. He's never seen a creature so small and so bold, so dark against the alabaster snow—as if hewn from night itself. He could swallow her in one bite, if it pleases him; but he suspects it is a fate she might not allow so easily. So he braces himself against the tree further, and its trunk creaks beneath his added weight.
Despite his suspicions, her appearance is noticeably corporeal, and her scent carries a twinge that is markedly feline. Perhaps she knows more of this place than he does, for even he cannot remember how he had first wandered here. Perhaps he is a luckier man than he suspects.
Tell me, cat, do you know a way out of this place?