Monster without a Name (Fel)

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A wound upon thy lady's breast, scars of possession and success, they parted with such sweet sorrow. A shadow of what presented itself between them, blood trickled from an agape mouth, drenching the earth in his charade. Help, cried the innocent, its feeble distress but a mockery to its departed brothers. Bones breaking underneath godly pressure, the serpent did as intended and, gradually, engulfed the creature whole. What a Devilish act. Or so that was what Lyon wished had happened. Instead the Omega of Helidos and he had parted ways without any mark on her frame... talents wasted.

Green hues caressing the landscape, a salmon tongue was as equally gentle to his stained lips, coursing through the refined hairs as each bristle took the crimson nectar that lie there. Ah, what a beautiful canvas. Beneath the demon, the Gods took upon the to paint him a tapestry of red, resulting from the vicious and unseemly kill he had but made moments before. Beige paw on the obsidian substance which swallowed the now broken ground, its gentle waves swept the blood until nothing but an abstract plethora remained. Ah, perhaps he was not meant to be an artist? Pity.

The hare was sadly the only thing the monster had made contact with and its presence was mere luck on his part. Now carefully guiding himself from one feeble rock to another, his pads often met scattered water, their hushed threats to throw him off the rock louder than they believed. The Hunter of Helidos was in a dark mood on this special eve, and there was a part of him that longed to be used and modeled like in the days past. He was nothing but a servant and now one with no master. It pained him to realize without a guiding light there was nothing but a hollow shell in its place. He was nothing... nothing but a monster without a name.