Backdated to shortly after A Brute In Bark

Perhaps, now that the two of them stalked amongst bones and snow-white webbing Vastator would understand the sense of unease Wolf-Rayet felt. It did not know why or what - only that it hated the feeling. "Hopefully we can avoid the eyes," it says, sniffing at an ancient trackway in the dried mud.

All it smells though, is the overwhelming decay. Gross, it thinks as its nose wrinkles. Food might be difficult to find, if it'll all smell as bad as everything else in this stinking pit.

image credit: oskenund

@Vastator

This place was sort of gross, and Vastator might've agreed had Wolf-Rayet voiced that thought. As it was he was trudging along, head held high, eyes narrowed as he sniffed.

"It smells... odd," he decided on. "Like rot." At length, he managed to connect the threads of white where they clustered most thickly with that stench. "That is the fungus?" His question was half a demand, again annoyed. So far as he could tell, then, some fool had spread rotten mold everywhere and made the whole cave half-dead--just look at all these bones!--and left food difficult to find.

Maybe it was hidden away-? He took to peering under boulders and into the cracked fissures of old stone as they passed. At length, he spotted movement. "Something is in there," he declared, stopping short so sharply that his claws scraped the stone. He swung his head down, eyes narrowed, tilting this way and that to try and see further in. "Do you fit?"

This was the plan, anyway--they would eat, first, and then there were some unidentifiable next steps he hadn't considered, and somehow the endgame was a kingdom full of followers. He just had to work out that middle part in the meantime.

@Wolf-Rayet

"Like sick," it agrees with Vastator, hobbling over the bones and fungus. "Maybe. I don't like it either way." It feels weird under its paws, and smelling it for too long starts to make them faint.

Wolf-Rayet's ears prick as Vastator bends down, and it looks when he speaks. The dark crevice wasn't that small, at least for it. "Can try," it says, before slipping under the larger Gembound's head to slip on in.

It was tighter than it initially bargained, and it takes some angling to get in, but soon enough it's squeezing on into the dark cubbyhole.

image credit: oskenund

@Vastator

The hunger and natural bloodthirst of a predator was sparking in him. He liked to think of himself as above others, by nature, but in this he was barely more than an animal: hungry for the hunt, the kill, and impatient for it. Likely, in fact, to throw caution to the wind and forget that "better nature" in his rush for satisfaction.

He stuck, therefore, his entire big stupid head into the crevice after Wolf-Rayet, oblivious at first to the fact that in doing so he blocked all external light. He was helping, in his mind (how magnanimous) and anyway, his eyes and maw did give off an emerald glow.

Vastator attempted to help pinpoint prey with his gleaming, magical sight--but found that even with his green-lit stare, he couldn't see anything at all. "Do you see anything?" he growled softly, trying to remain at least quiet and mostly still.

@Wolf-Rayet

To be fair, Wolf-Rayet hadn't been doing much hunting itself. Its sickness had made getting anything more than small mice for dinner a challenging endeavor. Even so, food is food, and with Vastator's help, it might be able to get something decent for once. "Looking," it reports back, mismatched eyes peering into the dark.

It wasn't completely impossible to see, at least. Rayet had grown accustomed to the gloom of Orion, so a little dark was just an inconvenience, for now. They catch sight of a flicking tail, slipping into the darkness, and it wriggles in further, chasing the sign of life. "Something here!"

image credit: oskenund

@Vastator

The young dragon fidgeted, staring into the dark, unable to fit where the nimble vulpine could. "I can't fit. Can you chase it this way?!" he cried, immediately impatient. Food, his brain was wailing. He wanted food.

He saw the wriggling at the farthest point of his vision beneath the boulder. "This way-" he barked again, jerking to one side as if to fruitlessly mirror Wolf-Rayet's movements. Then he was scratching at the rock with massive talons, which accomplished exactly nothing.

Vastator was, in this scenario, totally and utterly useless. How embarrassing.

@Wolf-Rayet

Vastator's eagerness pushes Wolf-Rayet deeper into the crevice, to flush whatever was squirming inside out to his eager jaws.

It catches a glimpse of fur, some lesser attempting to squeeze through some rocks past Rayet. "There!" it shouts, not that it matters since Vastator still can't reach. The thing is fast, but it can think faster. Maybe it could launch the dinner out of the crevice and into the open.

Wolf-Rayet calls upon its magic, launching a wave of force that drives the lesser careening out of the tunnel like a furry bullet. "Get it! Get it!" it howls, wriggling out after it.

image credit: oskenund

@Vastator

The furred critter--a rat, a mouse?--shot past him, first tumbled head over heels by Wolf-Rayet's magic and then scrambling to its feet. Vastator had but an instant to react.

A lunge snagged it in his jaws; those jaws crunched shut, and a squeal was cut off before it could really start. A quick kill. Good.

The wicker dragon tore it in half, considered, and decided he wanted the top half. He lobbed the bottom to land with a 'squish' and a 'thwap' on the ground before the crevice. "Good. Here; half." If Wolf-Rayet even wanted it. As it stood, he tipped his head back, gulping down the other half. He thought it was probably a small Red Rat; it certainly hadn't been anything dangerous, like those swarming black ones.

He didn't think to ask how the culpeo had gotten the rat to run. He assumed it'd simply... chased it.

@Wolf-Rayet

Mismatched eyes watch Vastator strike with precision, ending the rat quickly and cleanly. And half was tossed to where it was crawling out of the space, the scent of blood tantalizing potent.

It had been too long since Wolf-Rayet had a fresh meal. Once it has pulled itself out, they take one good sniff, before digging in. What was a small snack for Vastator was plenty for the little culpeo, and it quickly took to gorging itself. It doesn't exactly offer much for conversation while doing so.

Though maybe it should make its gratitude at least known. Rayet swallows a chunk of meat, blood coating its snout, before looking up to chirp, "Thank you."

image credit: oskenund

@Vastator

A reasonable response would have been to thank Wolf-Rayet, in turn. Or to assure them, at least, that they had also done their part, that they were as deserving of the meal as Vastator might have been.

Vastator did not say that.

Instead, he drew himself up mightily (as if he were far larger than he was, and far more adult) and huffed with unearned pride. "It stood no chance. You have been given a generous gift," he assured Wolf-Rayet, sternly. The implication being that it was either a one-time thing, or had to be earned, somehow. As if the culpeo hadn't already earned a meal, and then some.

He looked around, and huffed again. "Show me somewhere else," he said, at last, and then looked back at the far smaller creature trying to eat what had been merely a bite for Vastator. "...Hurry up with that."

(again i am sorry for the jerk-)

@Wolf-Rayet