[P] A Hot Wind Blows (Seryx/Desert and Famine)

[SkieBorne]

Seryx had found food in the form of meat hung out to dry in a strange smoking shed. It had been an unexpected windfall and the young predator had stuck around, watching the two-legged beings tend their dead-tree-stick dwelling before following them away towards what smelled like a very large herd of mud campers.

Sadly, less then a third there, his pilfering of the family's smoked meat hut had been discovered and he was forced to flee in the direction they'd been going lest he be caught.

Thus, winded, stuffed, and highly confused as to the nature of this strange world, Seryx found his way into more populated portion of the Pantheon's grounds. Uncertain and afraid, he'd been forced to hide in an empty storage shed, a tiger-sized lurking shadow with ears flicking restlessly and nose quivering as he took in the sights, sounds, and smells of the Pantheon's market.

"What's going on....?" He mumbled to himself, fully capable of speech but disused to it from being so long alone.

Tsunake

 

[Tsunake]

The god of Famine did not walk among mortals on any given day. They were disgusting, writhing creatures. To think their very essence was needed to rebirth gods... his lips pulled back briefly, baring his teeth ever so slightly. The very thought was abhorrent. His bare feet pressed into the stone pathway of the marketplace, a tattered pair of pants hanging from his bony hips. His protruding spine and prominent ribs caught the eyes of all he passed, and were it not for aura of menace hanging from him, he might have been mistaken for a ragged vagabond.

Of course, the gem buried in his scarred flesh was a dead giveaway to his godly status.

These rare times that Bazyli walked freely among the marketplaces... well, he often imagined what he could do to this lush and bountiful place. He was not so bold as to do anything foolish, mind. To attack the Pantheon would make him little better than the Grigori filth that had nearly been the End of All. Still though, one could not fault him for idle fantasies.

A sudden scent snapped him out of his wanderings, and the newly reborn god stopped in his tracks. The mouth in his left palm cracked open wide, an absurdly long tongue snaking forth to better pinpoint the source of such a delicacy.

But this was a delicacy he'd tasted once before. True, his senses had been feeble and dulled by the host's body he'd donned... but make no mistake, he had encountered this god before.

Famine moved with purpose towards an abandoned part of the market, his bare feet nearly soundless against the earth.

Rounding the corner and casting his gaze inside the shed--well, he did not find the woman he'd last remembered being host to Desert. Instead, there was a beast there, its sandy hide mirroring the dunes of the god's domain. Interesting. A predator.

"A new suit for you to wear, Desert? Have you lost yourself once more?" The words were a rasp of noise, and the god stared at the strange creature with an almost hungry air.

SkieBorne