It was a shadowy corner of Canis. Few lights hung above the spot, many piles of bones cast shadows upon the floor. A single crack split the silence and an air of deep, dark foreboding shrouded the area. Everything began to grow darker, the silence seemed to deepen. Anyone that came close...would find a deep seated discomfort and fear. But there was nothing here...

But there was something here. The bones were shivering, clattering, some toppled off of their piles, some seemed to dance. And from one of these piles came a shadow. The bones parted and rippled away like a wave as a creature covered in darkness climbed out. Everything seemed to darken at his presence - quite literally in fact. The few lights seemed to dim above, the shadows grew deeper. From his back, two great wings unfurled, stretching out to their greatest width. He seemed to be testing them, his horned head looked at each in turn as if curious of his own body. One arm came up, only a silhouette in the darkness, and he seemed to be inspecting that too. Another arm. And another. And another. He flexed the fingers, stretching them, curling them in, as if he did not expect his body to be like this.

And all was in darkness. All was in shadows.

The creature continued to stare at his hands before something shifted in the air. A sound. Rippling, tumbling, pressing against his senses. Though he had no visible ears, he could still hear everything and so he paused and looked up. Beyond the shadows, something was drawing near. Something dark. Something on wings. Something small. The air warmed but the creature made no visible indication that he could feel it at all.

His eyes, invisible in the darkness, followed the creature as it soared overhead. The shadow shifted, the wings pulled in, and it, for a moment, grew smaller. But then, in a move too fast for its size, the darkness leaped, appendages lurching forward. He came from the darkness and suddenly it wasn't darkness. It was a monster and light seemed to burst from his chest. His blank, glowing eyes were locked on the bird and both of his right arms were stretched forward, long black talons ready to grab the crow from the sky and wrench it down. No words, no sound.

No warning.

Huge, clawed hands reached forward from the beast and wrapped themselves around its fragile body. His eyes narrowed and his jaws parted, the faintest growl coming from his throat. The bird in his hand, the feathers, the heartbeat he could feel through the eye in the palm, it was too much to resist. He was young, he was new, and he was starving.

Momentum caught up and the creature came falling to the ground, his wings flaring to stop his descent, but he fell harder and faster then he had previously anticipated. So eager was he to eat that he tried to lean forward and take a bite before he fell to the ground, but he suddenly lurched forward, not quite understanding the balance of his own body just yet. Bones went clattering as he slammed into the rock and stumbled forward, grip loosening ever so slightly as he tried to regain his footing.

The bird was twisting in his hand but he paid it no mind. The darkness told him it was instinct, the desire to live, to fight and run. All prey had this instinct. All prey were consumed by fear. It simply existed to sate his hunger, but they fought back against the coming darkness. In a way, he admired that instinct - to live and to fight until the last breath. But he did not relent.

As soon as his balance had returned, his grip became iron around the bird. He thought, for a moment, about crushing it, but that would take too long and the bones would be dust. And the bird did not need to suffer anymore. He was hungry now, but that beak was too sharp and wild.

One of his other arms came up and reached for the bird, claws aiming to tear right into his throat and rip it out. It would die quickly, within a second or two, maybe immediately. And then...a small feast.

The pain registered quickly, but the beast still relented. The beak stabbed at his fingers, drawing blood, but nothing registered across his face, nothing showed that he'd even felt it at all. The claws came down all the same, ripping into the bird's throat and tearing it out, splattering blood on his hand and arm and on the rocks below. The beast didn't hesitate. The bird was dead now. He brought it up to his mouth and tore out a chunk of flesh.

He devoured everything - blood, skin, muscles, feathers, bones, organs...nothing was left uneaten. Not until a strange taste crossed over his tongue. He had not been noticing the flavor of the crow before, but this was unpleasant enough for him to pause. He opened his jaws and reached in gingerly, pulling out a small little stone. It was clear as water and still had skin and feathers attached. He stared at it for a moment before he dropped it, letting it clatter among the bones, uncaring. He finished his meal in a few more ravenous bites, the glow in his chest gently pulsing as he swallowed.

At last, there was nothing left but the blood on his hand. The eye in his palm was closed, at least. He began licking it away - blood was still food and it would not do to waste any of it. He didn't seem to mind that some of it was his own blood. He didn't stop until it was all clean. The punctures in his fingers still bled a little bit, but he ignored it. His stomach was comfortable now - not full, the bird had been relatively small, but he would not have to hunt again for a few hours. Now...a place to rest until the time came. He sauntered off, staying close to the wall, the lights dimming and the shadows deepening as he passed, rendering him little more then a shadow.

*exit