Etoliea Prey


Daemien walked through the forest softly, his pitch black fur blending in with the dim undergrowth easily. The dark shifter was perfectly silent, pale eyes scanning his surroundings with a mixture of hunger and wary respect. There was much prey in the forest, but sometimes it was hard to distinguish whether or not his intended meal would view him the same way. With that thought, the fur along his spine ruffled uncomfortably and he stretched, canine turning to a humanoid halfway through the movement. With a scowl, he fished about in his cloak, slender fingers resting on the hilt of his dagger, nails tapping against the polished wood as he moved to the narrow, winding path cutting through the forest, hoping to find a traveler. Whether to eat or to just talk with, the bored shifter hadn't decided yet.