7/26/2025, 4:33 AM
"Ouh, tha's noice."
Quiet muttering between breaths that are utterly filled with narwhal meat, sinking teeth in with pointed, ravenous gusto. Giant claws sink and slice into flesh as her titan-sized paws keep it pinned to the ground, flexing toes to keep the damn thing in place. From the hind, it's splatters of almost black-looking blood flung every which way, arcing wide and splattering the bone-pale fur of her muzzle and forepaws scarlet in hue. It's brutal, but it's slow. Methodical. Unlike the feeding frenzies of smaller animals, the thing eats with a kind of conservative nature. They have to nurture as much energy as they can, after all.
"Can't be mad at'a bit a' that," she murmurs again, all the same to herself. A powdery-pale tongue flicks over their blackened lips, swiping away any lost gristle and viscera as a long strand of dark red, sinew-heavy meat droops from the corner of her snaggletooth, not yet noticed as she pauses for a breath. A breath a little too deep to not notice the strange waft of something nearby. The creature smells weird. Different. Not like the cool air or the salt or the putrefaction of decay. She can hear the bear sniffle and snuffle with loud, nostril-flaring huffs. A casual look around, and one brown-black eye catches the strange blot of warmth against cool-colored sands, behind one meaty flank.
And so, Murgrind backs up by a single step, half-facing the little coyote who lingers that stone's throw away. Too fast too successfully chase off, Murgrind reckons, like the devious little arctic fox. There's a long, thick pause, before her rumbling, raspy voice crackles forth.
"An' whadda you want?" A harsh upjerk of her head, battered face scrunching slightly in displeasure.
Quiet muttering between breaths that are utterly filled with narwhal meat, sinking teeth in with pointed, ravenous gusto. Giant claws sink and slice into flesh as her titan-sized paws keep it pinned to the ground, flexing toes to keep the damn thing in place. From the hind, it's splatters of almost black-looking blood flung every which way, arcing wide and splattering the bone-pale fur of her muzzle and forepaws scarlet in hue. It's brutal, but it's slow. Methodical. Unlike the feeding frenzies of smaller animals, the thing eats with a kind of conservative nature. They have to nurture as much energy as they can, after all.
"Can't be mad at'a bit a' that," she murmurs again, all the same to herself. A powdery-pale tongue flicks over their blackened lips, swiping away any lost gristle and viscera as a long strand of dark red, sinew-heavy meat droops from the corner of her snaggletooth, not yet noticed as she pauses for a breath. A breath a little too deep to not notice the strange waft of something nearby. The creature smells weird. Different. Not like the cool air or the salt or the putrefaction of decay. She can hear the bear sniffle and snuffle with loud, nostril-flaring huffs. A casual look around, and one brown-black eye catches the strange blot of warmth against cool-colored sands, behind one meaty flank.
And so, Murgrind backs up by a single step, half-facing the little coyote who lingers that stone's throw away. Too fast too successfully chase off, Murgrind reckons, like the devious little arctic fox. There's a long, thick pause, before her rumbling, raspy voice crackles forth.
"An' whadda you want?" A harsh upjerk of her head, battered face scrunching slightly in displeasure.
![[Image: 110808325_6cxFgZ2xjaojuVq.png]](https://f2.toyhou.se/file/f2-toyhou-se/images/110808325_6cxFgZ2xjaojuVq.png)
