the nightingale with drops of his heart's blood had nourished the red rose
WHO: Quatre and the Thing
WHERE: A sub-building near Winner Corp.'s main location.
WHEN: September 27, 1:40AM
WARNINGS: Sure as hell not a G-rating.
SUMMARY: The final orders.
FORMAT: Paragraph.
He sniffed deeply, wet nose touching the grass that made up the lawn in front of the enormous office building, claws scratching lightly at the earth; his pupils widened, and he rumbled deep in his throat. The meat's smell was coming from so close nearby... but it was confusing. There was so much of it, and so old--as if it were the nest.
That didn't make any sense, though. There were dozens--hundreds--of other prey scents mixed in. None of them gave off the comfort of sleep.
He paced, thickly padded hand- and foot-paws silent against the ground.
This wasn't a nest. It was one of the hives; it was one of the places where they went to toil away like fleshy pink bees, uselessly slow and lazy and only good for playing with the strange white things that smelled of dead tree, protected from the outside they feared so much by their walls of stone and metal while they worked. Even so...
The great beast flicked an ear, listening to its surroundings, sharp green eyes looking for any sign of movement. The building might be a hive, but the newest scent led to it; more importantly, it had also failed to lead away again. The meat was there.
He licked his chops, shaking out his mane and shoulders, lowering his body to the ground and slinking slowly forward.
So very hungry...
WHERE: A sub-building near Winner Corp.'s main location.
WHEN: September 27, 1:40AM
WARNINGS: Sure as hell not a G-rating.
SUMMARY: The final orders.
FORMAT: Paragraph.
He sniffed deeply, wet nose touching the grass that made up the lawn in front of the enormous office building, claws scratching lightly at the earth; his pupils widened, and he rumbled deep in his throat. The meat's smell was coming from so close nearby... but it was confusing. There was so much of it, and so old--as if it were the nest.
That didn't make any sense, though. There were dozens--hundreds--of other prey scents mixed in. None of them gave off the comfort of sleep.
He paced, thickly padded hand- and foot-paws silent against the ground.
This wasn't a nest. It was one of the hives; it was one of the places where they went to toil away like fleshy pink bees, uselessly slow and lazy and only good for playing with the strange white things that smelled of dead tree, protected from the outside they feared so much by their walls of stone and metal while they worked. Even so...
The great beast flicked an ear, listening to its surroundings, sharp green eyes looking for any sign of movement. The building might be a hive, but the newest scent led to it; more importantly, it had also failed to lead away again. The meat was there.
He licked his chops, shaking out his mane and shoulders, lowering his body to the ground and slinking slowly forward.
So very hungry...