If Walls Could Speak

The harsh, biting wind was a mere whisper as Aresenn made his way through the dense wilderness. His cold gaze became more intent as he trailed the deer, its prey instinct failing it as he managed to get closer and closer. The sight stirred up something in him, a primal force that overpowered his usual apathy. The call to hunt was too strong, too enticing. Why was he this far away from home? Rational thought evaded him. Aresenn slinked through the underbrush, his claws barely rustling the frost-kissed leaves. His heart pounded in his chest, blood roared in his ears, a dissonant rhythm to the otherwise eerie silence of the forest. His ears strained to catch any sounds of movement ahead - the rustle of branches, the crunch of hooves on frozen ground.

The scent of the deer, the musky perfume of fear and desperation, filled his nostrils, a beckon that drowned out any other sense. Aresenn was no longer himself. He was the beast, the predator hidden beneath the veneer of civility. He became a part of the forest, a hand of nature herself, poised to deliver her brutal justice. His indifference washed away under the flood of raw instinct and longing. He yearned for the chase, for the kill.

A low growl rumbled deep within his chest, a sound foreign even to him. He was driven by the monster within him, insatiable in its blood lust and demand for control. His grip on reality began to loosen as this entity within him surged forth, taking hold of his senses, clouding his judgement with its ruthless intent. His gaze fixed on the deer, a singular focus that blocked out the rest of the world. The mossy trees became blurry shadows in his peripheral vision, the damp frigid air a vague sensation against his fur; nothing existed but his prey. The deer's eyes, wide and trembling, mirrored the fear pumping through its veins. It was an intoxicating sight for the beast within Aresenn, a siren song that drew him further into the abyss of his savage desires.

And then, he was on the move. His powerful legs propelled him forward with frightening speed, his claws digging into the frost-covered earth for traction. The forest morphed into a blur of green and grey as he systematically closed the distance between himself and his target. The desperate thud of the deer's hooves against the frozen terrain echoed like a frantic heartbeat in Aresenn's ears, arousing his predatory instinct to their peak.

The thrill of the chase engulfed him, washed over him like a torrential tide pulling him further under its sway. His breath hitched in excitement, a thin vaporous fog escaping from between his bared fangs, but he didn't pause. He couldn't. The hunt was on.

"Aresenn Praetor"