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 Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 8:49 am
Name: Alocer
Temper: Calculating
Alocer’s claws churned the dirt beneath him in anticipation, his eyes glowing in the moonlight as he peered out from the shadows of the trees. It seemed luck had afforded him a rare opportunity for destruction and he planned to take every advantage of it. With a silent chuckle he slipped into the guise of a coyote and began creeping towards the two-leggers’ village, keeping a wary eye cast in the direction of the other soquili. If he played this right, they would get theirs as well and a wry grin spread across his face at the thought. Slipping through the shadows around the teepees he passed unnoticed, making his way towards the thickest crowd in the celebration. He crouched in the shadows, watching as the youngest and spryest of the tribe danced in jubilation around a grand fire that glittered like the flames of Hell in Alocer’s eyes. He leaped from his cover, landing upon one of the dancers- not the very young or very old. He clamped down on the base of her neck and tore at the spinal cord, then dove at the next victim to claw at his chest as he fell before tearing out his throat and moving on.
Chaos reigned as Alocer jumped from one two-legger to the next, going for anyone near enough to attack. He’d disabled or killed most of the strongest two-leggers and it seemed the others only wanted to flee. Alocer dove into the shadows and back out time and again, circling the village and maiming all he could get his claws and teeth into. His acute senses warned of the second phase of this attack and he slipped into the shadows once more, finding a dark space between teepees big enough for his transformation. He growled low as he listened to the group of soquili that had surrounded the village start to move in. Surely they had heard the screams of the villagers and come to investigate. They knew there was danger, but they could never guess what they were up against. Alocer moved between the teepees, finding a young stallion on his own. The other male seemed so frightened and Alocer could hardly keep from cackling at the creature’s cowardice. He slinked around the back of the teepee the stallion was near, catching him from behind and to the side, slashing wickedly at his throat to silence him. The young stallion faltered, dazed and Alocer pounced on him, tearing into him with teeth and claws until he was no more than an unrecognizable, bloody lump. Alocer darted off to find another victim, finding two mares next who seemed more alert.
Alocer charged them straight on, catching both females completely off guard. The horror of a full skinwalker covered in the blood of their comrade charging them was more than enough to freeze them both with fear. He slammed full force into one of the mares, sending her tumbling. Recovering swiftly he turned to the other who had started to flee, but he grabbed her by the tail and pulled hard. She stumbled and tried to kick out at him with her hind legs but he had let go suddenly, throwing her off balance. He jumped around to the side of her and slashed at her neck, opening a terrible gash before turning and giving her a mighty kick from his hind legs, mocking her own attack. She flew to the ground, gasping for air. The other mare had recovered and was charging him, but he darted into the shadows. She paused, listening as carefully as she could, but heard nothing. Alocer grinned as he watched her, listened with pleasure at the speed with which her heart was beating. She was panting and sweating, terrified. He let another moment pass, then two, watching her fear increase and then subside as she was lulled into a sense that he had left. She turned as if to examine her fallen friend and as she bent down Alocer rushed her from his hiding place, going at her with claws and teeth, ripping away her flesh and cackling madly at the blood as it flew.
He left her bleeding on the ground, not quite dead. He heard the hooves of many soquili coming to investigate the noise. They’d undoubtedly found the other stallion’s bloody corpse and guessed at the attacker. “Well, it’s been fun,” he said to the two bloody and dying mares on the ground. He grinned at them as he transformed into a coyote and fled into the night.
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Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 9:20 am
Name: Kaharli
Temper: Devious
[[he might be a coyote but it will make more sense if you understand that fact he thinks hes a cat xDDD]
Today I was going to kill something, anything, what I do not know, how is not important, what is today I am going to take a life any life it does not matter. I know there is a celebration going on in the village, now am I going to go in there all guns blazing? no that would be pointless and rushed. Instead I am going to take my sweet time.
Kaharli laid there on a tree purring in his coyote form before he yawned jumping down to the floor and walking into the village unnoticed by anyone taking his good sweet time to do so, being a cat he did not like rushing anything he was far too lazy and usually he wouldn't bother with things like this, but he was bored... a valid excuse?
Approaching a new by Teepee he sniffed his small slender body crawling into it he smelt young. A smirk spread across his lips as he made his way over to a cradle and looked down in it, there was a babby, young, defenseless, small... helpless. All the words brought a bigger smile on his face as he stretched looking at the sleeping child as he attracted his claws one at a time.
Now lets see where to stay? he thought jabbing his claws quickly into the babby's throat, to kill it quick and stop it from crying, it was dead in a matter of seconds. He smiled as he ran another one of his claws down its front, basically cutting him in half so he could get to the organs, that's when his work begun he took out the heart, liver, stomach, kidneys what ever you can think off and scattered them over the teepee, of cause he hate the heart, if you ate anothers heart supposedly there life will be added onto yours.
He did not waste any time, then again he did not rush his work it had to be perfect as usual in the space of a couple of minutes he was out of the teepee with blood dripping down his face, he walked onto the hill top under the cover of night and changed back into his Kalona form as he licked his lips and yawned beginning to clean his self he was very finicky about his fur... all cats where.
He purred hearing a scream, a cry or maybe you could call it a spirit getting broken. All the laughter that once was in the village had stopped. He smiled looks like that was his excitement for the night... now what about the next?
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Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 9:48 am
Quote: It seems to be a night of celebration for the two-leggers, but you intend on having a celebration of your own, skinwalker style! On one side, you have the villagers who are too busy celebrating to realize just how poorly they've let their guard down, and on the other, a gathering of Soquili hosting their own festival of sorts. Young and old are among both parties, and all seem to be unaware of your presence. It's obvious that a smorgasbord of opportunity lies in front of you. So...what do you do? As the moon’s face drifted behind a hazy curtain of shadowy clouds, the faint light rippled over something hidden among the shadows of the forest. All too briefly picking out the low-slung form. Gold and cream fur cast silver under the moon’s baleful gaze, flowed over a lean, muscular body. Emerald jewels hung as if suspended in the darkness. A faint flash of ivory fang. A skinwalker clothed in its feline form. A slow smirk curled across the male’s muzzle, a dark gleam lighting his emerald eyes. It was The Night at last. Such an occurrence happened only rarely and this night, when darkness cloaked the lands and the cold moon shone her face down impassively, watching the fates of those weak souls below, did both the soquili and the two-leggers put aside their suspicions and wariness and indulged in a feast for gluttons. This night was the night for those like himself, predators both cruel and ferocious, were let loose on the unsuspecting hords of flesh below. Saliva glistened on dagger-like teeth as the skinwalker grinned at the very thought of all that plump meat just waiting to be picked like ripe fruit. Though there were two separate gatherings, one for the fleshy two-leggers, and one for those that dared to compare themselves with his kind, there was no question as to which party this particular skinwalker would be attending. To him, there really was no choice between the two. While soquili were large, they were also bony. The foals, who possessed the most tender meat, were all leg and neck, neither part particularly pleasant to dine upon. Compared to the two-leggers, the soquili were poor pickings. Who in their right mind would waste time on a spindly legged foal or the tougher meat of the adults, when there was a real treasure to be had in the forest of teepees? Small bundles of flesh, plump and juicy, with only the smallest inconveniences in the shape of the teepee itself and the scraps of smelly old hide used as wrapping. No.. it was a forgone conclusion which feast the tiger was going to attend. They had all but laid out the red carpet for him. The adults, drunk on the sharp smelling liquid they appeared to have a taste for, would be far away from the tasty snacks of their infants, dancing like fools around the blazing fire-god they so loved to worship. The smirk widened into a deadly grin as excitement danced in the tiger’s eyes. Oh yes.. tonight would be a feast for the Gods.
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Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 10:10 am
Username: phoenix_resurgam
Soquili name: Viacent
Temper: vindictive
Prompt: It seems to be a night of celebration for the two-leggers, but you intend on having a celebration of your own, skinwalker style! On one side, you have the villagers who are too busy celebrating to realize just how poorly they've let their guard down, and on the other, a gathering of Soquili hosting their own festival of sorts. Young and old are among both parties, and all seem to be unaware of your presence. It's obvious that a smorgasbord of opportunity lies in front of you. So...what do you do?
He hated. With every fiber of his being. With every breath he took.
On one paw were the two-leggers. So weak, so fragile. All soft without protection of any kind unless they brought with them the sharpened sticks. But really, he thought sardonically, what harm could a couple of sticks do? They were his favored prey. Soft, slow. They screamed so beautifully as they were ripped apart. And though they had not as much blood as some of his prey, it seemed richer, darker, more beautiful as it captured the light or the shadows.
His eyes started to cloud with bloodlust. He needed to hunt.
As he took in the clearing from his position in the shadows of the forest, he scanned for likely prey. It was the harvest moon and the village was bustling with activity. Celebrating something. It would be almost too easy. The young, the old and everything in between. He could have his choice of prey. His tongue darted out to lick his lips. He could almost taste the blood.
On the other were the Soquili. There were some who were no better then regular horses used as beasts of burden. Others were more…fun. Challenging almost. Those the had horns or wings. They were strong enough to fight back, and unlike the pathetic two-leggers, even the foals had means to protect themselves. And tonight, there were even those having their own celebration of sorts. A gathering anyway. Another chance to hunt cornered prey.
To hear them squeal as they realized they were doomed. The final moan of despair.
He looked back up to the moon, realizing the night was still young. He had plenty of time. He could have his own little “celebration”. And he wouldn’t even discriminate. He would Hunt both.
The satisfaction of overcoming prey that could fight back, and the beauty of crimson human blood as it sprays from the living body, arching through the shadows before staining the ground. Both of the only pleasures he found would be indulged in.
He hated. With every fiber of his being. With every breath. But some nights, like tonight, he found he could enjoy himself. After all a challenge ending in blood was sweet.
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Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 10:28 am
 Prompt It seems to be a night of celebration for the two-leggers, but you intend on having a celebration of your own, skinwalker style! On one side, you have the villagers who are too busy celebrating to realize just how poorly they've let their guard down, and on the other, a gathering of Soquili hosting their own festival of sorts. Young and old are among both parties, and all seem to be unaware of your presence. It's obvious that a smorgasbord of opportunity lies in front of you. So...what do you do? Naming: Kikei (Meaning "Tricks")
Kikei, what a lovely sight he was a first. His bright and neutral colors made him seem harmless. And those enchanting emerald eyes, seemed like they could see through anyone. Even with the fur of another wrapped around him, you would think nothing of it.. Until you realized what he really was.. And what he had done in his past. He wasn't a gentle creature, more like a devilish prankster.. When there was any chance for Kikei to play an sort of inhuman trick he was there.. But he enjoyed them much better, when he wasn't blamed..
. . .
This particular night, Kikei roamed the woods. There were many trees around, but also many paths. Paths that could lead anywhere and to anyone. The night sky shown bright with stars, but the full moon was definitely the brightest this night. But Kikei could feel the presence of others.. Good others. He didn't like meeting others with with a happy or good presence. They were to much for him to handle, and sickened him like no other. He'd rather stick around destructive figures, who could teach him to be "better". But the feeling only became stronger and stronger as he walked deeper through his surroundings. One might think he'd turn away with such a strong feeling. But Kikei also had a feeling there was tricky he could play tonight. Making his way further.. There! He spotted his chance.. His chance to play some tricks..
A smirk appeared on his face. One of much evil intent. Upon him were two paths. A path to a horses celebration, and another to a human celebration. This couldn't have been any better. He let out a little devilish laugh at his thoughts and his opportunity. He knew what he was going to do right away. Scare the horses, so bad, they'd be to frightened to realize they were ruining the humans celebration.. As they trampled through. Hah! What a plan this was going to be..
"Come to me little horses." He smirked as he slithered towards the path of his own.
Walking more through the trees. Careful not to step on anything that might make to big a sound. He watched the horses with their celebrations. Psh! Celebrations were for the weak! Kikei didn't need such a thing. For luck or strength. Watching them intensely, he waited for the perfect chance. The perfect chance for him to make his move, and begin his devious task. And before he knew it, it became quiet. Looking upon him, the horses seemed.. Scared. They could probably sense his evil presence. Kikei's smirk grew bigger. Half of his job was already done.. And he didn't even do anything. But now, now was his chance.
"The heavens have brought me down to warn you.." He sounded most angelic. He could fool anyone with his tricks.. Almost anyone.. "I know you feel an evil presence, as do I. You must leave, before something bad happens! Head to the west, where it cannot find you! Hurry, before it's to late!" His voice let out a helpful cry, of distress and care. Fooling the horses right into his tricks.
Before he knew it, the horses ran, ran towards the celebrations of the humans. The wind sudden became heavy, with the horses rush. Kikei hurried off to see the destruction he had caused. Has the last horse made it's way through the village, he ran out from the trees. He could hear the humans scream, and the horses trampling. It was like music to his ears. He could only let out another devilish laugh. With that, the wind suddenly slowed down, and it became quiet. Walking a little closer to the village, he saw all the madness he had created. And it didn't pierce his heart one bit. Not even of the young girl crying over her mothers dead body. Tears streaming down her face, turning to spot the monster, Kikei. Only to leave her with the sight of an insane skinwalker, smirking like then demon he was..
A day of celebration, turned into a day of death and disaster. Only a few could've seen such a horrible event happening. And one of them was Kikei. But he could only devilishly laugh at the event. Letting it echo out across the lands. Letting everyone know he had arrived, and was looking for some fun..
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Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 10:33 am
Username: ChaosTheories
Soquili Name: Narvelk
Temper: Manipulative
((Homg sorry for the length. D= ))
It was only by chance that Narvelk came across the village in time to see the celebration. There had been no hint of it at first except for an increase of scent, both two-legger and four, as he made his way through the brush. He had known that he was approaching the village but the scent was even stronger than usual, telling him that something more was happening than just the simple, trivial things the two-leggers and their pets went through day after dull day. The skinwalker padded quietly through the bare forest to the edge of the clearing, fallen leaves deadening the sound of his paws against the earth. Cat-like eyes peered out from the spindly branches and took in the sight before him.
They were separated into groups. The two-leggers, with their strange homes made of coloured hide, lay the farthest away from him, but his sharp eyes allowed him to see clearly the figures prancing around the fire like a group of flighty rabbits. Dressed in feathered and beaded garments, they chanted as they moved in a strange rhythm. Narvelk shook his head at the sight before turning his attention to their four-legged pets, all gathered up tantalizingly close on his side of the clearing. It would be a matter of picking off the ones near the edge while the other ones fled into the village, causing a distraction great enough to let him escape with little notice. He began to salivate at the thoughts, but he pushed the urge to hunt back for the moment.
After all, Narvelk enjoyed observing his food first.
He retreated a few feet back into the woods. The two-legger pets appeared to be mimicking the humans in their celebration but with a joy entirely their own. They stomped their hooves and cried out to the perfectly clear night sky. Silently the skinwalker placed himself in the shadows of the trees downwind, his striped coat and the illumination from the full moon camouflaging his pelted body. It was a perfect night to see and not be seen.
Of course, this wasn't unusual behaviour for Narvelk. It was one thing to pick apart the bodies of his prey, separating each morsel of muscle, tendon and bone. But it was a different challenge entirely to pick apart the mind of such a creature. To discover what made them what they are, believe in what they believed in... and to find what made their hearts weak with fear. To break another one needed to be the victim in a sense, understanding what drove them to survive and thrive. It was all too easy to simply break their bodies and be done with them. No, the real challenge was snapping their minds piece by insignificant piece.
Besides, it was enjoyable to watch them grovel like the inferior beings that they were before, mercifully, he snapped their necks.
Narvelk grinned in the illuminated forest, the shadows of the branches blending with his stripes to break up his outline. It was almost too late when he spotted the tiny figure approaching him. With a turn of his head he spied the colt, darting through the trees towards him. In a flash his grin distorted into a snarl as the youngling skidded to a stop in front of him.
"Hey mister! I'm hiding from my mom. You won't tell- "
The skinwalker didn't let him finish. With a great clawed paw he struck the colt across the face, splitting open his flesh and sending his limp body slamming into a thick trunk. Narvelk stood over the youngster, a deep growl tearing from his throat. Stupid thing had almost blown his cover. Youngsters and their naive thoughts. He placed a forepaw down on the colt's side. Incredible, it was still breathing. The stallion began to press down, feeling the ribs strain and relent underneath him...
"Stop you MONSTER!"
Narvelk whipped around angrily to find who had the nerve to disturb him for the second time in mere minutes. His nostrils flared as his cold eyes met the stare of a mare. The mother of the pathetic piece of flesh on the ground, he guessed, judging by her reluctance to flee from him. The mare panted heavily but didn't look away. What horrible, pleading eyes she had. He would love to gouge them out right then and there just to stop looking at them. She positively reeked with fear, but her motherly instinct held her in place.
The skinwalker couldn't help but chuckle at the sight in front of him. How far would she go to save her spawn? Flicking his tail to the side, he listened to the distant celebration. Everyone was too occupied to notice this little exchange in the darkness. "Why should I? You can't stop me," Narvelk sneered, making a point to look over the mare's diminutive body. Then a thoughtful look creeped across his face. "Unless... would you would like to bargain?"
"I won't bargain with the likes of you!" She retorted shakily. But with a glance at her helpless son lying under the tree, her body slumped in defeat. Curiously Narvelk studied her change in body language. It was so easy to break mares... all it took was a threat towards a loved one. The mare swallowed hard. "What do you want, in exchange for my son?"
"Ahh, that's the easy part." Narvelk replied in a sweeping tone, his grin returning. "Just come with me, away from this trivial party of yours..."
The two figures retreated into the trees. The first one hung her head low, occasionally glancing back for what she was leaving behind. The other traveled with his head held proudly, stepping high as moonlight an shadow blended together on the thick pelt that he wore. Inwardly Narvelk thanked the luck that had caused him to stumbled on the celebration in the first place. This mare would be a breeze to finish off.
After all, she was already broken.
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Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 10:55 am
He crept in close, ears pricked with interest, nostrils inhaling the scent of life, of blood, of prey. His eyes gleamed jade, reflecting the firelight as two eerie points of light. How they moved, stirred, and swirled! His pupils widened, taking in more and more details. He held still, as still as a rabbit the moment before it screams and flees in a terror stark enough to stop the panicked heart. Still, so still he held, as the figures danced on in the flickering firelight, the moon a wan and watery spectre rising slowly above the merry scene. Or at least, merry for now. His heart began to thump faster within his cursed chest as his eyes narrowed, zeroing in on one among the myriad two-leggers. There. That one. She was the one.
His tongue lolled out of powerful jaws, hanging between razor sharp teeth to drip saliva steadily upon the thirsty ground. Yes, she would do quite nicely. It was time to act. On silent paws, he prowled forward, eyes locked on his chosen prey. This night's hunt would be a trial, but would be worth it in the end.
The young woman was aglow with happiness. She had only recently become acknowledged as one of the women, fully adult and ready to take a husband. Though she was lovely in her own way, there were many such as her in the village, many her own age. For some reason in her generation, the girls had outnumbered the boys. It had been a time of plenty, and more hands in the fields and at the looms were welcome. Life was good, and tonight's feast was the perfect setting for her to catch the eye of some young brave. Suitors might not be in plenty, but they were most welcome!
Her thick black hair was braided back with beaded ribbons which were carefully patterned in red and gold. Her dress was cream, with deep brown and red fringe and black and red beadwork. Her golden face gleamed prettily in the firelight, and laughter danced in her eyes. Tonight was to be her night to shine!
But it wasn't the gleam in some handsome suitor's eyes that caught her attention. Strangely enough it was a shape, a movement beyond the firelight, pale against the darkness. What was that? Against all wisdom that might have been given her, should she have asked, she moved away from the gathering, away from her friends and family. Pulling a light shawl about her bare shoulders, she peered out into the darkness, catching another glimpse of pale fur that moved in among the trees some distance away. Almost as if entranced, she set foot off the village path and followed.
Once among the trees, the firelight from the feast dimmed and faded away. Only the weak, yellow moonlight filtering through the autumn trees gave light. A furry shape, on all fours, slid between the trunks of two wide-spaced trees some distance ahead. In a dreamlike state, drawn on by sheer curiosity and puzzlement, she moved after it. Moments later, a curving neck, four long legs, and a sweeping tail moved visibly across her path, the faint sound of paws padding heavily mocking the image of a horse that soon disappeared around another bend. Baffled and growing colder, the maiden tugged her shawl closer and forged on, ignoring the clinging fingers of brush that clawed at her beaded dress and caught in the fringe, leaving a trail of ruined finery behind her.
How sweet it was to lure her! The thrill of confusing her with his shapeshifting made the fur down his spine stand up excitedly. The sound of her hammering heart made his own thud all the harder. He let her catch glimpses, enough to entice her further, unpredictable enough to keep her off balance and bewildered. On he led her as the stars swung overhead, until even her loudest scream would only disturb the slumbering wildlife, who knew better than to trifle with a skinwalker on the hunt.
Finally he slipped into the shadows just inside a covert of forest within the arms of a massive rock formation. He watched, predatory breath heavy upon the chilled night air, as she came to a halt in perplexed confusion, staring at a sheer rock face. Nervously her fingers clutched at one braid, dismay and uncertainty resulting in delicious tremors that sent tremors of a different sort down his spine. With his wolf skin on, he padded around behind her, emerging into the pale illumination given by the sickly moon hanging directly overhead. He gave a low growl, watching with pleasure as she whirled around, eyes wide with fright. He panted in the scent of her fear, sweet perfume to his canine nose. He threw his ears forward and raised his head, baring his sharp white teeth to the night in a feral smile. Aha, I have you! Wordless, his body spoke for him in posture and aura. Though he reeked of death, he also oozed another highly potent emotion.
Seduction. Though his head was held high, his tail behind him swung with an invitation of friendliness. He let his tongue loll out again, laughing up at the sky and into her eyes, locking his bright green ones onto her deep brown ones. Come to me, his demeanor whispered. Come, touch my fur, pet my ears. Does my pelt not look soft and warm? He watched avidly as she eyed him, shivering beneath her flimsy shawl. Oh yes, she would come to him. She would be his. He poured on this alien charm all the more, letting a soft whine slip from his throat, a convincing lure to one so innocent and gullible. How hungrily he watched as her visage of dismay softened to one of doubt and soft-heartedness.
Bah, soft-heartedness! it wasn't entirely useless, for it gave him opportunity here and now that he'd not have had otherwise. At this moment, her weakness was his strongest tool. Even so, how he despised such a thing! Gentleness existed in the world to allow creatures like him to entice feeble-minded prey into their traps. Kindness was something to be exploited to its fullest. And love? It was a myth. Nothing ever truly loved. It always came down to fulfilling one's own wants and needs, no matter how you looked at it. Caught up in his thoughts, he stopped himself just in time before a snarl curled his lip and escaped his throat. Easy, easy now, the time for that had not yet come! Patience, now there was a useful commodity. One he had been liberally blessed with. Still playing his part as an appealing pet, wagging his tail and relaxing his muscles, he waited. For she was drawing near.
Perhaps some of his kind would have torn her throat out long ago. Some would have drank her blood before she even realized her danger. Few played with their prey as he did, but he supped not only upon the flesh of his prey, but the welter of emotions he willfully evoked. As for tonight's delightful dish... his plans went far beyond that of a midnight snack. He was a creature with a long view, a mission in life that occasionally impressed itself beyond his own immediate desires. Tonight, he had more purpose than merely to shed the innocent blood of one lone girl. Oh no. Tonight, he set in motion the slaughter of many, many more.
It was time to bring another of the human species into the fold, and make the blood of those two-leggers run cold as they realized that the enemy was among them as well as out in the shadows of the night. For tonight, he would transform the one they would never suspect into the source of their most horrific fears. A cursed and hungering human under his command!
Before the moon had set, two voices were raised in feral howls, echoing across the valley and stirring the men in their sleep. The time of terror had come!
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Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 12:15 pm
Prompt It seems to be a night of celebration for the two-leggers, but you intend on having a celebration of your own, skinwalker style! On one side, you have the villagers who are too busy celebrating to realize just how poorly they've let their guard down, and on the other, a gathering of Soquili hosting their own festival of sorts. Young and old are among both parties, and all seem to be unaware of your presence. It's obvious that a smorgasbord of opportunity lies in front of you. So...what do you do? ((Now with extra Niss! 8D)) It was cold outside as was typical for an autumn night. As chilly as it was it had not stopped the creatures inhabiting the village from leaving the relative safety of their homes. Tan ears lowered against the mighty coyotes head. His lips curled back in a snarl to hear the sounds of laughter and merry chattering. The sound made his skin crawl. Where were the screams of terror that should be filling the air? He would not be ignored. They would learn that things lurked in the night, things to be feared.
The sound of his quick hoof steps made a hollow, dull, thud against the cheerful sounds from the village. He ducked behind a tree close enough to see the humans but far enough away that any strays that wandered away would not be heard. He tilted his head and parted his lips letting out a pained cry, it made him cringe to know that such a pathetic sound was coming from him. It was necessary though. His normal howl would send most scattering. He didn’t want to scare them, he wanted to punish them. He wanted them to suffer. There would be at least one stupid human that would want to see if it was one of their stupid pets’ wolves crying out in such a way.
He called out again making this noise especially pitiful before lowering his head. He laughed softly and licked his lips before stilling completely to wait. His pray would either come to him or he would go to them.
He did not have to wait long. His nose twitched as the wind brought a disgustingly sweet smell to him. A thin and twisted smile spread across his face. A child. Perfect. If there was one thing that would make them remember his power it was the death of one of their precious young. He chuckled softly then began a series of over-dramatized whimpers to lure his pray closer.
“Wah-ya...wha-ya?” The child called stupidly. He rolled his eyes. The foolishness of the two-leggers never ceased to amaze him but he did not stop his little act. Closer and closer she came calling for the ‘wah-ya’. He silenced himself and waited with baited breath until she peered around the tree. She gasped and went wide-eyed. He smiled at her and stepped out from behind his hiding place. “Evening.” He said mockingly before she began to scream.
He growled and quickly snapped his mouth closed around her little throat. She quieted and went still as the slightly metallic taste filled his mouth. He dropped her body before ripping into her flesh to fill his belly. When he could hold no more he grabbed her by the neck and dragged her back to the village. He was pleased to see a few other two-leggers walking towards him. They froze when they saw him and he smirked before letting her body fall to the ground.
He tilted his head back and howled. He wanted all of them to know who had done this and they all would. Either the humans that had seen him would spread the word or they would link the howls and his teeth marks. With a flick of his tail he turned about and walked off into the night.
They would learn quickly and if they did not, well he would just have to make a habit of visiting these two-leggers every time his stomach felt a bit empty.
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Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 12:51 pm
The male snorted through his nose as he shifted himself in his standing position. He was watching, for now that was it. Watching both of the parties, but for the moment mostly the Soquili one. Some how the celebration of his own kind intereged him more then the two-legged one.
No one ever invited him to any parties, no one told him. He wasn't crazy. Not like the rumors, and he wasn't as horrific as the humans though he was. The Soquili's rumors of him didn't bother him as much as the two-leggers did. He didn't kill his family, they did. He knew it.
A sneer formed on his lips as he turned toward the area of the two-legged part, such stupid creatures. To him they were worthless, he didn't even know why they existed. started to walk more toward the Two-legger party, he was a little noisy. The sound of his hallow sounding hooves hitting the ground, and the crunch of the grass under him.
He moved behind the trees and quickly as he could with out making much sound. He then moved onto the main road as he sound the approaching voices of two-leggers. He grunted then looked forward with uncaring eyes as a smirk grew on his face.
"What a beautiful night." His deep growl of a voice escaped his mouth as he stared forward at the two-leggers who seemed slightly surprised. He stopped, hearing nothing but the sound of wind because of his hooves not beating on the ground, then he snorted out of his nose, looking at the steam rise up because of the cold air.
Soon excitement ran through the air, he could smell it. They had to have been drinking. The two humans moved closer to him, yelling anxious things about riding him. He large stallion snorted of the idea.
Then he waited.
He waited for them to get close enough to him, when they were in arms length of him he reared up, extending his legs out and making sure that each on hit each of the two-leggers both right on their heads. "Good night." He said deeply before they both hit the ground, hitting their head's hard on the stone ground.
The stallion moved closer one of the bodies and sniffed it before leaning down and licking some of the blood away and nipping at the skin. They were both dead.
He looked up with a demented grin. He started to gallop off toward the rest of the two leggers. He knew the others would be just as easy.
His revenge was going to come.
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Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 1:00 pm
name: Ashoka (its means without sorrow)
temper: deluded
A pair of olive colored eyes violently snapped open and peered through the darkness, ears wiggling slowly in place. A scowl carefully formed on the skin walkers face, as he searched for the one who had awoken him, the foolish one who had dared wake him up. A light glittered and danced through the leaves of the bushes to the side of his resting place, the sound of happy chattering reached his ears, and as he poked his head through the leaves silently, he spotted a pack of humans rejoicing. A cat like grin flashed across his face, and if one were to watch they might think he was insane, and they would be right, for as far as Ashoka knew he was crazy. He had spent many days stalking soquili, observing their behavior fascinated, that was before he made them dinner that is. Being abandoned as a child he was puzzled as to why he had these cravings, and further puzzled as to the fact he was colored like a tiger with stripes and wore a coyote skin on his back, and he discovered even more things about himself that set him apart from the others which led to him believing he was deranged, while it was really just that he was making a futile attempt to suppress what he was supposed to be.
As Ashoka rose shaking ever so slightly, for he had injured one of his font legs, he felt another one of those urges overcome him. It was almost like a sudden jolt as his instincts started taking over, while his stomach rumbled quietly, and no matter how much he tried to restrain himself he couldn’t help but think, “oh how delicious those humans look tonight!” and he licked his lips, his tongue bleeding as it brushed against his sharpened teeth, and as he gazed about looking for the right prey he couldn’t help but notice the scent of other soquili nearby as well! His eyes widened as he cautiously took a step closer to the festivities, after all the creatures nearby seemed to be offering themselves to him, no wonder they were so joyous!
The male crouched down, as low as he could make his large body go and he crept slowly, silently forward, knowing that even the ever so slight movement might scare them away. His eyes narrowed, a grimace on his face as he concentrated, tongue continually licking his chops as he narrowed it down to the tastiest. That’s when he saw her, a young girl sitting on a stump nearby, she was braiding her long raven black hair which looked as soft as silk and it seemed that many admiring eyes were cast upon her. His senses warned him to choose someone more alone, someone less likely to be missed, but she was oh so tempting! How delicious her soft flesh would taste and how it would please him to see her admirers recoil! And even better yet wipe that smug look of her haughty face! He smiled, resisting the urge to cackle, not even snickering slightly for fear it would give away his position.
Closer and closer he crept, pausing every so often to prevent detection as best he could. Ashoka didn’t just look like he had tiger stripes tiger, but in his mind he was a tiger, vicious and intimidating, beautiful and strong. He was a lover of chaos, of blood, of death! despite the fact he denied it.. he was a lover of meat, even though he tried to refuse it... and this girl was his meal, he would have dessert later, perhaps one of the foolish young soquili nearby. He was arrogant, he was proud, he was delusional, but most of all he was a SKIN WALKER! And even though he wasn’t true to himself, his instincts made him true to his breed, a fierce monster indeed! one to strike terror in the hearts of others! Monster he was he still tried to deny it, as he smiled smelling the faint scent of flowers wafting off the girl, he was only inches away now and she was inches away from her death. His muscles tensed and he lunged forward snapping his powerful jaws around her throat. The girl only managed to let out a loud scream of terror and pain. Before it was over… over in a puddle of blood.
His eyes rolled back into his head with pleasure, screams echoing throughout the area, as the two leggers comprehended what was going on, several men dashed off looking for weapons while he gorged himself upon her corpse. The blood ran down his maw, dripping… slowly dripping down onto his fur staining it crimson.
“Mine all mine!” he cackled demonically with glee, his eyes blank for he could see nothing but the blood. A slow blink and his eyes readjusted and suddenly he was sane again, yet his belly was full. Puzzled Ashoka looked down seeing the mangled girls body at his feet, he glanced up warily as the men gathered around with their pointy weapons. He was paralyzed with fear, no longer the powerful fearless skin walker as he should be, but a coward ridden with even more guilt. As the humans slowly came closer he turned, the powerful muscles in his legs contracting before he dashed off into the woods, not even noticing the blood red moon overhead as he fled into the night.
"no matter how far you run you cant change who you are.... you cant escape your destiny!" a voice echoed behind him"no matter how hard you try" it seemed to trail off into a whisper.
“Today was supposed to be a celebration…” he sighed
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Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 1:20 pm
Unfortunately for those celebrating a skinwalker was about to have his own sort of party, and of course, everyone was invited. It was his right as a predator to seek, and the second he could sense the bodies he knew he was needed by instinct. He had a wide array of opportunities tonight, and his colorless eyes shifted playfully as he watched from behind some bushes. It had been days since his last act of playing. Now was the time to strike, although a decision needed to be made before acting. Verner had to decide between devouring two-legger or Soquili flesh. Both sounded like excellent choices, and rather then dwelling on a decision he decided to look for openings in the two groups of morsels. He noticed an abundance of children and foals, and while those were easy targets, the amount of meat was rather limited. He grunted loudly as he toyed around with some other options. He was also pacing back and forth as he thought, since his adrenaline was already rising out of excitement. One coupling eventually caught his eyes, and past the grouping of Soquilis he noticed a young mare and stallion talking to one another. He was instantly intrigued with his find, and he scurried through the bushes so that he could get a better look. His movements were as quick as a hawk is to its prey, and he was silent with his paws as he sped.
Once he was comfortably watching the couple, he noticed the mare was blushing and realized the stallion was probably confessing to her or something. Such was an act he never understood, and the fact that he was witnessing it made him want to kill even more. His ears were glad to notice that silence now surrounded him and his prey, and that meant that he was far enough away from the bigger party, and now he could create his own set of rules. Playtime was finally starting, and Verner made a decision to attack and abolish the female first since she carried more fat on her then the male. There was also something about her blush that made him want to kill her even more. And any reason to kill was good enough for him.
Slowly and surely, he crept out of the bushes' grasp. He was no long hiding, and he was sure to make his appearance well known to the couple. His ears were bent like daggers and his fangs were growing in size as he approached the male's gaze. Yes. Now they were both shrieking and backing up. They were completely caught by Verner's intimidation, and Verner was backing them farther and farther away from the bigger commotion. The couple was too petrified to realize they were going in the wrong direction, and already Verner was winning in this situation. This was why he was the hunter. He was too damn good at winning to be anything else.
"Any last words?" he then said, while rolling his eyes from the female to the male. In truth, he wasn't listening to them at all. He didn't bother to hear when others spoke. Their voices were of no importance to Verner, since their bodies were all that mattered to him. Though his question was scaring them even more, and that was what he had intended. While the male was still speaking, Verner galloped forward while slamming his body into the male's side. Instantly the smaller stallion fell to the ground, and he didn't move for a matter of seconds. It looked as though it was the first time the stallion had ever felt contact, and Verner was glad to see his calculations were correct.
While the male was struggling to regain his composure, Verner didn't hesitate to waste a second on the female. His body made a quick-step forward and his jaw opened wide as he tore at the female's neck. He wanted to hold on to her, but unfortunately she was faster then he had presumed. He watched as she backed herself into a tree and shuddered in complete fear. Blood and parts were dripping down her back, and it was clear that the damage was well deserved. He licked his lips pleasurably as some small pieces of flesh and blood slide down his throat. As wonderful as it tasted and felt, he was not done here.
He needed to stun the male more, and since the female was stalled and startled, he turned himself so that he was facing the now standing-and shouting male. What was the male saying? That he would save his love or something? "I can't hear you." Verner then said, and with a rushed movement forward he lowered his body so that he could grab at one of the male's legs. His jaws clamped on to the skinny leg as though it was attached to it already, and within moments the male was smacked to the ground. It was obvious that the male had no fighting ability once so ever, and Verner was highly amused by this.
The only thing he did hear finally was a scream coming from the female. Apparently she didn't like what Verner did to her friend. But the scream was a good reminder of the true task at hand, and that was to take the female as his meal. Now, as ruthless as Verner was, he wasn't in the position to eat the female in front of the male. The only reason he was so successful in this particular mission was because his specimens were so completely and helplessly young. They were still in their bubble of youth years, and although their bodies were grown, they had no understanding of how to truly survive in the wild. Well, Verner had given the male a lesson, and although the male would survive, he would survive to always be wounded somehow. Verner was taking his pride and his love for himself. That was enough to leave the skinwalker laughing.
When he had returned to his female, who looked as though she was dying of shock, he decided to tear her apart some more so that she was barely making a sound. Hopefully the death gods would finish her off soon so that Verner would be blessed with her body as payment. He wanted the silence to return to his ears, and although he was genius at ignoring unwanted sounds, screams were too fulfilling for his mind to flush out. When his work was done with the female, he turned his attention to the male, who was still unable to return to standing with his legs. "I'll be taking her now." he then said, and with a scratch of his paw he drew a scar on the stallion's young snout. He rather liked doing that when he had the opportunity. He then approached the female's body and grabbed her by a front leg. Now was the annoying part of dragging, but soon he would be in a state of fullness that would cure all other problems and complaints.
With the mare's leg he dragged and dragged, and as the stallion on the ground diminished in distance and vision, Verner trailed onward before finally stopping and finishing his deluxe meal.
He'd see how he felt after devouring the female. And if he was still hungry, he'd happily do it all over again, maybe twice just for kicks. Afterall, it was a night to celebrate, right?
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Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 2:14 pm
It’s so easy to loose oneself in the moment. The sounds of revelry filled Mornidian’s ears. He had found himself drawn to the intersection between the two areas of festivity and from here he could hear the celebrations on either side. They sounded happy, like they were enjoying themselves. They have lost themselves in good times and good humor. His lips curled back in fierce disdain for such feelings. He had no use for them. Mornidian didn’t even know if a skinwalker could experience joy in such a purely innocent way. He had his pleasures, yes... but they were full of pain and darkness instead of laughter and the light from dancing fires.
He began to prowl along the perimeter of the human celebration. It was only a matter of time until one of them staggered off, too drunken or fatigued to notice he was there. When that happened it would only be too easy to kill them silently, to drag them off and devour them in some place where not even their bones would ever be found. It would be easy. The plan made sense and would work...
But hearing them like that... happy and full of life... His breath hissed in and out between clenched fangs. It makes me want to rip and tear... it makes me want to bite! Maim! Hear screams instead of laughter! It makes me-
He stopped, one paw barely within the ring of light created by the bonfire in the center of the clearing. In an instant the animal was gone and his mind was back. He drew back into the shadows again and panted from the exertion of such emotions... and with the terror that ran through him as destructive and indiscriminate as fire.
Control. It all came down to the lack of control and that was what made the skinwalker weak with fear. He had almost charged in, almost started a rampage that could have ended with himself speared on the ends of hundreds of spears. He relished killing, yes. He relished the controlled sort of hunting where he could use both his body and his mind to the fullest to bring down his prey. It was these sorts of events, however... these giant gatherings of all the emotions that he could not himself ever experience....
Those were the times when the beast within him threatened to devour even his sense of self.
Even now he fought to regain control. He took a step towards the encampment then away. His breath heaved in and out of him like he had been running all night when he had yet to exert himself. His green eyes rolled this way and that. He had to kill. He had to torment. He had to torture and tear and yet which each of these thoughts he grew more afraid that he might never think another thing again.
His thoughts grew more frenzied and the roar of laughter from inside the celebration elicited a roar of rage from him. Had they even heard him? Would they run? Would they fight? Would they bleed and tear and scream and cry and beg and die like the pathetic animals they were?
... Or is it I who is the pathetic animal?
His roar choked in his throat and finished in what was almost a sob. An animal. I’m only an animal. No mind but to eat and bite and claw and tear and- “ I AM MORNIDIAN! REMEMBER! REMEMBER! REMEMBER!” He did bite then but it was himself that his fangs found. He tore into a front leg and tried to let the pain bring his mind back from the brink of madness. The agony reminded him of who he was, of what he was. A skinwalker. A monster. Himself. He was himself. He was-
A small gasp drew his attention. A pair of humans, lovers perhaps, had wandered into the darkness to find a place alone away from the crowds and noise. One drew a knife. One started to cry. “Why did you come here?” moaned Mornidian with his own blood dripping from his mouth. “Why did you come here to disturb me? I won’t forgive you for that. I’ll punish you... I’ll hurt you... I’ll rip and tear and BITE AND CLAW AND KILL AND TEAR AND BITE AND BITE AND BITE UNTIL YOU DIE!”
With the last screech his mind left him and he was upon the terrified humans. As his teeth dug into soft flesh the pain from his self-inflicted wounds no longer bothered him. Nothing did. It was all so simple now. A euphoric smile spread across his face as he tore out the second one’s throat and looked towards the sound of the revelry that still proceeded. They were all going to die. Every last one of them.
He surged towards the human encampment, eyes empty of all but hunger. I’ll tear and bite and maim and rend and claw and eat and....
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Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 2:21 pm
Prompt It seems to be a night of celebration for the two-leggers, but you intend on having a celebration of your own, skinwalker style! On one side, you have the villagers who are too busy celebrating to realize just how poorly they've let their guard down, and on the other, a gathering of Soquili hosting their own festival of sorts. Young and old are among both parties, and all seem to be unaware of your presence. It's obvious that a smorgasbord of opportunity lies in front of you. So...what do you do?
Sneaking even closer to hear them and get ready to act out his own plan he smirks seeing two young foals talking about play hide and seak, purfect he thinks, he turns and follows them closely. He noticed that one of the foals was a filly the other one was stallion, whom to attack, hopefully the stallion would fight back if he were to attack, he was counting on it smirking and licking his lips he perpered to jump out and scare them, hopefully the they would run or at least try. Watching as he gets in front of them he prepeares to pounce, getting closer to the ground he smirks again, then waits for the right chance.
The stallion turns his to his friend and starts to count, the young filly turns and heads for the woods, umm this is great he thinks, smirking he waits for her to be out of sight
The stallion starts to shake as he feels that something is watching him from the shadows of the woods, he rather face it then run back to his parents as his body was telling him to do, starting to see a shape now, he starts to back track slowly hoping that to was just a shadow, and that his mind was playing tricks on him.
The skinwalker watches the young stallion he glares at himself, he got cocky. Blink he springs on the young stallion, landing before stallion he blinks then growls and attacks.
The young stallion blinks, shakes as something lands infront of him spining around he takes off in a dead run to scared to yell for help.
The skinwalker smirks, and chases after the young stallion gaining on him as if he was standing still, he smirks again ' dinner.' as he prepeares to bite, catching the young stallions left leg he smirks at himself " I got him, remember to not break the skin on the leg what fun would that me catch and release is more fun ain't it?'
the young stallion sceams in pain as his leg is biten into he trys to get away but knowing that this thing is stonger then him he glares at it and decides to fight, lifting his other leg he leases out trying to kick it and get his other leg released.
beening cought by surpise the skinwalker gettings a hoof to the side of the head, making him release his grip on the leg, glareing at the stallion he decides to give chance all the way to where the adults are.
trying again to out run it the young stallion sees the filly that he was playing with " run.!" he sceams, blinking the filly runs infront of him as fast as she could, she could see the fear of her friends face and smell the the blood, runing into the middle of the villege she stops as the stallion behide her runs into her they both hit the ground and slide to a stop in front of their parents.
The skinwalker, stopping the chance outside the village and returning to the shadows safety blinks and glares at himself then turning away it failed it was time to leave before he was spotted there would be another night to try this again.
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Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 3:35 pm
Prompt It seems to be a night of celebration for the two-leggers, but you intend on having a celebration of your own, skinwalker style! On one side, you have the villagers who are too busy celebrating to realize just how poorly they've let their guard down, and on the other, a gathering of Soquili hosting their own festival of sorts. Young and old are among both parties, and all seem to be unaware of your presence. It's obvious that a smorgasbord of opportunity lies in front of you. So...what do you do?
Sure, he was downwind of both parties, but his pale fur stuck out from the black canvas of the night like an Angeni amidst a pack of Kalona. Not that that setup would last terribly long, of course. The same must hold true for him in this position. One ear swiveled towards the two-leggers, listening to their distant sounds of chatter and merriment. His opaque eyes turned next to the group of Soquili opposite of the humans, narrowing as he watched their high spirits and obvious celebratory mood. Why did they deserve that? No one ever asked him to go to such gatherings. Not that he would want to, but the thought… the audacity!
He shuddered where he stood, claws digging into the soft loam beneath his feet. His pulse quickened; he could literally feel the building fury in his veins and coursing through his body. Envious? Perhaps. The stallion didn’t want to admit it, but he was downright resentful of their fun, their happiness. His ears flattened against his skull, maw curling back into a vindictive snarl. Even if he didn’t -kill- any of them… anything, anything was better than having to sit and watch from afar.
Why not him? Why should they have their fun?
It took most of his little self-control to slink slowly and silently towards the equine celebration, ignoring the oblivious two-leggers and focusing his full attention on his quarry. Crouching low behind several scraggly shrubs, the skinwalker froze out of instinct as a voice drifting into his range of hearing. These new voices did not sound so happy… had they seen him?
“I forbid you! You will not leave my herd!”
“I’m going to do whatever I feel like, you’re not going to tell me what to do!”
He snorted softly, feeling the anger abate just a tiny bit. So even with all of this merry-making going on, there were still arguments to be had? Fantastic. Now he wasn’t so livid with them. When alone he had no reason to envy anything at all- only the wind across the plains and the ground beneath his feet accompanied him. Now he was seeing the problems that had caused him to walk away from al others show up in the most unlikely of places.
Wait, why was it so quiet suddenly?
Had they gone? He hadn’t even noticed. The stallion crept out from behind the shrub, claws digging in as his tentative walk turned into a brisk lope, swiftly covering ground toward the closest Soquili he could find. Much to his dismay the thing spooked at his scent and bolted, starting a game of cat-and-mouse throughout the center of the festivities. Chaos ensued, foals and adults alike scattering before the large paws of the rampaging skinwalker could close in on them. Before long the stallion was the only one left in the area, nostrils flared wide for breath and a loud, full laugh coming from his throat. No blood had been spilled, no lives lost; yet the feeling like he had just taken candy from a baby coursed strong through his veins- it was extraordinary!
Was he merely resentful of their fun? Probably.
It’d teach them to exclude him from their parties…
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Posted: Thu Oct 30, 2008 3:47 pm
The moon shone down on the lone figure as he watched the activity below him. He didn't normally concern himself with the activities of the Soquili and human herds, but the noise that had drifted up had peaked his curiosity. Perhaps this was an opportunity to take advantage of...
Which would be better? On the one side, the humans flailed around large fires, beating things and wailing to the sky in tones that hurt his ears, attuned to the quiet as they were. On the other, the Soquili frolicked and shouted and cavorted in ways that made him curl his lip in disgust. Such a waste of energy that could be better put to use hunting. Which made his choice of which celebration to ruin that much easier...
He crept towards the village, taking care to move slowly and carefully. Not for the first time he cursed his coloration - it made sneaking up on things at night much more difficult than it was for his darker-colored counterparts. But perhaps he was being overly cautious. The humans were so intent on their merrymaking that none seemed to take any notice of him at all. There were some sentries but, the skinwalker snorted with disdain, they were so befuddled with drink that they smiled and waved to him - like he was some sort of mundane Soquili! One in particular had a foolish grin plastered to his face and came up, blathering about "petting the nice horsie." The Soquili glared at the human, fairly radiating hatred and offense. The drunken man remained oblivious, and reached out to stroke the soft pelt that rested on the stallion's nose.
Enough was enough. Faster than a striking snake, the skinwalker lashed out and fastened his jaws on the man's wrist. A sickening crack, followed by fleshy chewing sounds, and the human's hand came off in the skinwalker's mouth. As the stallion devoured the morsel, the man looked at the bloody stump, still grinning, and waved it around a bit. The skinwalker swallowed, watching the human's smile fade away as the pain began to penetrate through the fog of alcohol. Before the befuddled man could think enough to draw breath to scream, the striped skinwalker lunged, fangs fastening on his jugular. There would be no warning from this particular sentry, he thought with a savage smile around his meal. Indeed, he meant to make certain the man was not found until it was too late.
Even at his hungriest, the stallion couldn't eat an entire human in one sitting. And, as there were so very many at this celebration that was distracting them all, he made the decision to eat only the choicest bits of the sentry. After all, there would surely be more to follow. Before moving on, however, the Soquili shifted forms in order to take a look inside the nearest darkened tent. Upon seeing and scenting no one living, he dug a shallow ditch underneath one side of the leather and dragged the body into the teepee. It was entirely possible, he thought with a bloodthirsty smile, that in the chaos he would shortly cause, no one would realize there was a dead body in here until it began to rot and smell.
Keeping to his furred form, the skinwalker crept out of the tent's entrance flap and towards the sounds of raucous celebration. He stopped abruptly in surprise as a grass ball bounced less than a fang's length from his nose and looked up. A young human girl was running after the ball on stubby legs, shrieking gleefully in registers that made his ears hurt. As she came up towards him, he hurriedly took a step back to get out of the little cannonball's way.
Unfortunately, the child had the short attention span of all children, and the ball was immediately forgotten as she spotted him. "DOGGIE!" she squealed, voice spiraling up into an even higher register than before. He had only enough time to wince as the child assaulted his ears before her fat little hands were on him, grabbing at his fur, pulling him close to her milky-smelling body. The skinwalker snarled and immediately shifted forms, carelessly trampling the child in his rush to get her off. What a shame, for the little ones were always so tender as to be a high-class meal in and of themselves.
It was his bad luck that an older relative of the child's - possibly a brother, judging by scent - had been looking for her, and seen the murder. Luckily for the Soquili, he too was drunk and his slowed wits had the man pointing at the stallion, gabbing something out in a voice not much louder than normal. Far too fast for the drunk to percieve, the skinwalker moved, rearing and lashing out with his forehooves. One hit the man squarely in the forehead and he dropped like a stone to the ground, broken head letting a veritable pond of blood out onto the frost-hardened ground where it pooled, unable to be absorbed.
Wary now, the stallion loked around cautiously. He was still not yet to the central area of the tents, where the massive bonfire and celebration were, which meant there were no more witnesses to deal with this time. He poked his nose into a tent, hoping to find another empty one. This one was quite the opposite. His mouth watered as he caught the unmistakable scent of a tiny, tender baby. If he had any weaknesses, it was that he could never resist a succulent infant. The skinwalker was still only halfway into the teepee when he shifted to his horse form, in order to better devour the child. Unfortunately, that made getting all the way into the closed tent...difficult. Snorting and pawing at ground and mats, he wriggled in slowly, pausing every time he thought he heard any of the voices getting closer, resuming when they faded away. It didn't occur to him to shift back into fur-form with the scent of the baby strong in his nostrils.
Finally, finally he made it in and bent over the cradle. The infants face wrinkled as it opened its eyes to glare at the looming presence. Before it could shriek with displeasure, the Soquili pounced, a single bite removing the entire front of the child's throat, splattering skinwalker and tent with blood. He chewed slowly, savoring each bite of the baby - oh, such a treat! And to think, there would be so many more delicacies by the time he was done here!
Finished with the baby, he crept out of the tent once more, this time in fur-form. That was a stroke of luck, for as he poked his head out into the open air once more, he saw a human standing over the bodies of the young girl and the man whom he'd killed earlier. The skinwalkers ears went back in alarm as the man shouted for others to come and see the carnage lying around. This was not good, not good at all.
He was slipping out of the teepee, trusting to his coloration to camouflage him against the leather when a scream rent the night. It was coming from the direction of the teepee where he'd left the sentry's body. He closed his eyes and winced. Damn, he'd hoped to have more time...he'd allowed himself to get too distracted by the child. If he didn't know how pathetic the humans were, he might've supposed that they'd left the baby there as a trap for him.
Luckily they were still distracted by the bodies and he continued making his way out of the village. As he backed up slowly, he ran into something big, soft, and warm. Slowly the skinwalker turned his head and found himself face to face with a large, growling dog which, once it knew it had his attention, began barking loudly and snapping at him. He snarled back and shifted to his own form, taking a particular pleasure in breaking the lead dog's back with his clawed foot.
This proved to not be the wisest course of action as the humans noticed him and realized what he was, leading to more shouts and many screams. The Soquili bared his fangs and snarled at the lot of them, even though the men were grabbing weapons and stringing bows. A couple of them were even attempting to sneak up behind him. Lip curling in disdain, the skinwalker whirled around and clawed the pair of them, resulting in high-pitched squeals of pain that were like music to his hears, even if they hurt. But as soon as he'd turned his back, the archers fired, and three quarrels hit home, one in his left leg and two in his back. The skinwalker snarled again, but the archers were already reloading and there intentions were clear. Others had grabbed clubs and swords and slings and were moving to surround him.
Rearing and screaming his displeasure to the whole of the village, the skinwalker did something he hated, but was necessary. He ran, cursing the villagers and their celebration. One day, he vowed, one day he would return and destroy them all. And then he would feast on their remains until he could eat no more. After that, well, there were all number of things he could do to desecrate the remains of humans and village alike. An evil grin lit the skinwalker's face, despite the pain of his injuries, as he passed into the darkness beneath the forest, humans still shouting behind him. The last thing he heard from the village before he passed out of range was the rising wail of a mother on finding her baby devoured by the savage skinwalker.
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