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Craevan lunges at Nhyovi
(Nat 20; attack successful)

It had been a month at least since some would be hero or unsuspecting victim wandered into Craevan’s domain. As such he had been forced to feed off of forest animals who had learned to make themselves scarce in the many years since he had first started to hunt on these grounds. While it was enough to sustain him, nothing beat the fresh blood of another Soquili. Even his weaker half would have to agree, balk as he might at the very notion. Which is why, now that he had her, he was unable to let her go.

The sweetness of her blood tickled his tongue and nearly made him purr for how badly he had missed it. His jaw clamped with more strength than he had initially intended and, while he had only wanted to injure her in order to slow her, he drank deep from the shallow yet benevolent wound. The dark mare’s struggles mattered little to him as he fought to keep his hold. He much preferred drinking straight from the neck, however he would not complain and contemplated forgoing his much more taxing plans so that he may simply drink her dry as is.

Craevan was on top of the world and settling comfortably into his blood high until the mare jerked away, leaving him stunned and with a small mouthful of flesh that he had no interest in and therefore spat out abruptly. It was upsetting to say the least. His stomach curled unhappily and his throat burned, bereft of the all too delicious meal that had temporarily escaped him.

“Come now,” he mocked, “it was just a nibble. No reason to get all ups-“

But before he could finish his taunt she was flying toward him with a precision he had only seen a hoof-full of times. With a hiss he moved to leap out of her way but the reach of those claws got to him before he could steer clear, carving thin yet deep lines of red into the pale pelt of his flank. The scent of blood already tainted the breeze, but as it grew stronger with each new wound, so did his hunger.

“Those claws are quite annoying.” He growled, putting some space between them and wincing at the pain toward his rear. She had gotten him good, but he was not yet deterred by this. “Let’s see if I can’t do something about that!”

Pivoting on his front hooves he bucked toward her, keen on hitting her in one or both of her front legs in the hopes of disarming her.

(5 defense, 5 attack)

The kick hit him directly in the chest, enraging him and causing him to scream his fury. His armor had done a fine job of preventing any broken bones, but it still hurt like hell and had done nothing to shield his pride. Typically he took great pleasure in toying with his meals but this mare was making it more difficult on him than others had. Part of him still wanted to play. Wanted to see what the outcome would be should they continue this dance, probably his weaker half who longed for death, but the other part simply wanted to gorge itself on blood. A much more attractive option should you ask him, which he was.

It was not hard for him to see that she was working to keep her ego bridled but clearly thought she had the upper hoof now. She had landed two rather powerful attacks and perhaps was beginning to feel hopeful; something that may just play to his favor.

Canting away from his injured flank he focused to turn his breathing labored while sagging a bit, displaying weakness in every way that he could. No doubt the mare would see through it at least partially but the smallest amount of doubt was all he needed. It was a dirty trick to be sure, however that hardly bothered him.

“You’re strong,” he rasped, “if only I’d had more of your blood I would be able to overtake you easily.”

It was not a lie necessarily, the more blood he drank the stronger he became, but he was not nearly as drawn as he pretended to be. It was all a part of his game. Let her believe for only a second that he was done and then strike when she let her guard down.

He waited, waited, waited…..NOW! Her posture shifted just enough and he charged at her, this time going for the throat. There was no more time for him to play and he was starving.

(9 defense, 20 attack - automatic success)

Victory blinded him and blood became his soul focus. She would not deter him, not now that he had her pinned and his fangs in her neck. It was a hold she could not break so he drank greedily and with very little concern of her escape.

After but a few moments her flailing became weaker and weaker until, at last, she went limp. Silence fell over the forest once more and all was as it should be. Hunger stopped gnawing at him and the chill that normally befell him when hungry dissipated. Satisfaction slid over him like a warm blanket, allowing him to feel content once more.

A sharp pain exploded over his left eye and he squeezed his eyes shut against it with a deafening growl. Not now. NOT NOW! He panicked, knowing all too well what, or whom rather, that pain portended. His weaker half was waking. It wanted him to stop, to spare her life. He fought against it and buried his fangs deeper into the cooling flesh. He would not yield!

The pain grew stronger and sharper to the point where he released his hold on the mare to howl, and that was all it took.

Craevan’s gaze fell upon the stranger and took on a sorrowful appearance. The wound to his flank paired with the blood dripping from his lips told him the entirety of what had happened here. Of what he had done. It was always like this; perhaps had even gotten worse since the mare he had loved vanished without a trace. His heart broke all over again and he did the only thing he could.

Scooping up his latest victim he carried her on his back to the border of his forest and laid her down a few yards away from the tree line. She would be safe from the beast here. Hopefully help would come along to save her for this was as much as he was willing to do.

Turning, he disappeared back into that cursed forest, not even bothering to look back at the poor creature he left behind.