Reptile
He was a tall and imposing creature; standing over seven feet tall and with a sculpted figure. His body was covered in deep sage, scaled hide, with red stripes painting his shoulders, forearms, and thighs. His waist was slender, and shoulders broad, as his four fingered hand ended in chilling black talons, complete with a thumb as well. His legs were also reptilian; strong, powerful legs, with a caved in shin, and three toes, complete with a lengthy, sickle talon, all an obsidian black color. A winding, curling tail moved about too, and tipping it was a lengthy, bone stinger, meant purely for impaling foes...the worst way to die. His long, powerful neck moved forward, and Feylin was finally able to see his head; the creature’s head appearing reptilian, with a wide maw, and a mouth filled with sharp teeth...but where he was to have eyes, he had none at all, save for impressions in his head where they were supposed to be. Oddly, he looked to have a mop of hair covering his head as well, keratin protrusions that were arranged like dreadlocks on his head, even with little metal bandings. He even had a few decorating his chin, like some sort of beard...giving him an aged, yet seasoned look. As he knelt down by the wounded Morph, Feylin could see the being wore armor of some sort; a pair of baggy, violet shorts for his legs, as his shins were covered in cerulean armor, as were his forearms, as his upper torso was covered as well...but the rest of his armor was forged from yellow bone, as his hands were clad in brown, fingerless gloves. Still, the bones were namely around his belt, and upper back, meant more as trophies as opposed to actual defense.
Including a large, bull-like skull on his right shoulder.
“You were a fighter, it seems,” The voice that came from the hunter was...odd; bass and gruff, as it dripped aged and experience with every syllable. He reached his hand out, and Feylin watched one of those flesh hounds bring him a wooden knife, tipped with an obsidian head...it was what the Morph used to defend himself no doubt. “Risking such wounds to fend off my hounds...only with a primitive tool. You have my commendations...enough so to where I had to come to you, myself.”
“Go...to hell...you...FUCKING MONSTER!!!”
SHRUCK!
Feylin’s blood went cold as he watched the eyeless reptile ram that very knife into the bird’s shoulder; his blood-curdling scream being droned out by the affirmative howls of the hounds, though they fell silent when the reptile waved his hand.
“There’s no need for such language, you should know. I’m giving you politeness here...congratulating you for your furor...and then you fire off such fowl language at me. It’s uncalled for.” The knife was slowly twisted, before being left there, as the creature withdrew his hand. “But, I forgive you...now I offer you a deal. Tell me where the others ran, and I’ll grant you mercy.” The bird’s beak was contorted into agony, as he reached a weary hand up...and in a flash, he acted.
Feylin watched him rip the knife from his shoulder, and try to stab the alien, only for his wrist to be caught in a flash, and snapped like a twig.
“WAAUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!”
Written by AGhostInTheMachine on 18 September 2018
The end (for now)