Passing through the darkness of the forest, the moonlight dappling the ground in hues of grey half-light as it fell through the dense canopy above, it was ideal for him, Malkier’s keen sense helped him hunt in the darkness and the shifting moon light cast strange shadows, obscuring his form from would be prey. He paused in the deeper shadow beneath the expanse of an ancient tree, it’s trunk likely twice as much around as the span of his arms, he found himself musing back to the conversation by the fireside and how Deryn had spoken of the stories she had been raised with, her interpretation of them amused him. Malkier had very little frame of reference for children’s stories, he’d mentioned as much as they had eaten before continuing<b><i>“Maybe it is because a story is the only way a man can appear superior to a woman in your lands. For us of the Underdark, we know our females are superior, chosen to lead our nation, imbued with the Will of Lolth, how can a man compete with divine purpose? I know your lands and cultures are different to ours but perhaps it is a universal constant that males know they are lesser, so yours compensate by making themselves the focus within your stories.”</i></b><br/><br/>As much as he knew of other cultures, they would always appear strange to him, the Viper nation was quite even in it’s distribution of power of males and females, he understood that to be due to their more tribal nature and that those with strength of personality, magical or physical power rose to head up their tribes, power did not distinguish between males and females as far as he knew. As for how things worked in Deryn’s home land of Albion he knew far less, mostly due to his reluctance to travel there, something about their hatred for those of an Unliving pattern, put him off risking his existence just to explore their lands. Her personal story of what her family wanted for her confused him, again it came from his limited knowledge of their cultures, but her grandmother wanting Deryn to be producing offspring so young and so many, how could she defend herself from them all? He would have to ask her to explain sometime.<br/><br/>He knew little of her knightly order, or any of Albion’s orders for that matter, but she seemed proud of her place and the prospect of adventure clearly drove her, he’d struggled not to laugh aloud when she had mentioned seeing the Underdark. Of course, he would take her if she truly wished, but for most surfacers, it was not a place they asked to visit. A gentle breeze brushed against his skin carrying with it the sounds of conversation, this roused Malkier from his reverie of the earlier evening and began to move again. Gliding almost from shadow to shadow, as he passed through the forest, the hint of wood smoke that wafted upon the breeze spoke of a camp fire, likely small as it arrived after the sounds of voices, or they were being very loud.<br/><br/>Ducking beneath a low hanging bough he crouched in the darkness, the scent of the smoke filling his nostrils this close. The amber glow from the fire illuminated three figures, they were dressed in rough garb, likely wood cutters for a local settlement, he had seen similar practices in other surface areas of the Egg, small groups ventured from their settlements into nearby woodland to gather wood for building and firewood. Glancing around the small clearing to check for any others, Malkier slipped his 2 large knives from their sheathes, uttering quiet dark phrases under his breath, both blades wreathed in dark green energies were held low by his side.<br/><br/>Bursting from the undergrowth and into the clearing, a flurry of feathers and slashing blades, the two nearest wood cutters were struck, the wounds were non-fatal and the energies surrounding his blades dissipating and suffusing the helpless wood cutters, their bodies stiffening, paralysed where they sat, their faces frozen in surprise. The third fell back off the log upon which he was sat, scrabbling backward in the dirt for where he had dropped his axe as the feathered fiend advanced towards him. Invoking his powers once more, Malkier gripped the man by the throat, his touch infused with magic causing his prey to freeze like his companions.<br/><br/>Stopping down over the prone form, his large dark wings draped around them both, shielding his actions from any potential prying eyes. His fangs lengthened as they neared the warm flesh of the man’s neck before biting down, his sharp fangs easily piercing the soft skin, the coppery taste of the man’s blood, as it flowed from the small wounds, filled Malkier’s mouth. He could feel the nature of the blood invigorating his form, sustaining his nature, making him appear ‘healthy’ and less pallid. The man would survive, likely traumatised and may never venture into the forests again, but he would live. The energies that had paralysed his companions would wear off soon, standing slowly from the now supine form of his meal Malkier folded back his wings and shook out his neck before beginning to stride off into the darkness, he should likely return with some firewood as he had said to Deryn.<br/><br/>Tag:<a class="username" data-user-id="91" data-username="@Wren" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/91/">@Wren</a>