Overall, it's very sleek. Its scales are oily and slick, while the skin underneath is thick with a rubber-like substance, preventing conductivity from the various sparks that fly about it. Most of the destruction seems to direct from the spongy spots running along its lateral line. These circles are akin to a Sach's organ- while formatted the same, they'll detect electrical currents by echoing out their own, effectively reducing the need for light in deep ocean.

And, light they can provide. For wavering times, bright green and yellow can flare across these organs, illuminating the surrounding area or only glowing up to how much the owner wants them to. Four dots around the normal eye act in effectively the same way- yet they seem duller and harder, more for protection than anything. Typically, the weaker the light is, the more green it is, much like an overgrown glow-stick.

Any contact with these organs will cause a nasty and potentially deadly shock, akin to an electric eel's organs at nearly 800 volts maximum. This would drain every bit of energy from the being, though, so it's used rather sparingly. After all, a tired Valkhound is a dead Valkhound. It can control the voltage, often at the same strength as the light they put out, if it wishes to actually remain awake.

Otherwise, it seems they've had a nasty life. While their skin heals rather well, their three part fins- one mane along the neck, one long dorsal one, and its tailfin- have all been battered or torn here and there. Worst of all is its wings- curiously, it seems the digits coming from the elbow has been torn off halfway, creating a jagged edge where a long, luminescent trail was a long time ago.

While its back legs are particularly strong with thick, wicked claws, its front are more heinous. Jagged fishhook claws point out from its three-toed, one-thumbed paws, dipping and curling back at a 90 degree angle to latch onto prey. Between its shoulders and a large keel-bone is a set of smaller limbs. They're more like frog's hands, and seem nearly defunct, until direct manipulation of small objects is needed. Then, the nail-less hands can get to work, tearing off small specks of meat or fiddling with smaller things that would be unwieldy for its other limbs.

Last thing of note is the large angler-like bulb coming from its head. This is the Sach's organ that shines brightest and shocks hardest- and, it seems to be able to detach and remain deadly for several hours afterwards, leaving a glowing, floating bulb to stun prey and distract predators. The bulb itself takes about a week to grow back after this method is used, and in that time the Valkhound will often require a spike of food intake to ensure it grows in properly.

Its slick Oilstone lays just below its right shoulder, resting over the location of one of its Sach's organs.

Like a worn stone, all that remains is a silent being, drifting along with the currents and descending on its prey from the dark. It prides itself on its power- it has no need for beauty, no need for the unnecessary processes of socialization. No- it simply is, and will be, for the rest of time.

Perhaps it's a sad way to live. The being does not mind- as it does not mind many things. It exists to survive, and that's what it does, morphed into a strange beast that collects the shorn, inedible parts of its foes and stows them away, finding beauty in the accomplishments it's overtaken. Anything that dares to challenge it must earn its respect before it would risk its life in any endeavor- and that is a challenge in itself, as respect is hard to come by.

It sees any being- sentient or not- as either food or competition. There is no distinction for Greater or Lesser. If it's talked to, its words are abstract and focus on the impression of things- and if the impression is that the conversation is not important to its well-being, than it would rather not have it.

While it prefers the waters, it may surface someday in search of a new path- a new challenge to overcome, something to spark its idle, ancient body once more. But, for now, it will sit and wait, as it always has.

Alone.