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The moonlight cut through gaps within the canopy, illuminating the frame of a hulking beast padding through the dark forest. Nails dug deep into the earth with each step, tail snapping nearby branches that tried to stop the monster on its prowl.
Only the sound of breaking twigs echoed throughout the forest as the creature lurked. His wings stayed folded to his sides, avoiding any attempt the branches tried at hindering his pace. Bright flames licked at his feet, kissing each step he took. His eyes glowed within the darkness, frightening off various animals who simply wished to explore the night. It did not bother him. He had not come out to play with the wildlife. No. He was here for another purpose: To meet the Apocalypse Child.
He had heard stories throughout his travels that had caught his attention. It started out as a faint rumor, but as he grew closer to the home of such a story the voices grew louder, eventually nearing on panic. Foxes warned one another of the escaped child who would bring ruin upon the earth. Mothers told their kits to avoid those with masks, while fathers guarded their family at night. And then he reached it, a place full of foxes who had once belonged to a tribe that had now disbanded.
They flinched at his sight, however greedily accepted the gifts he bore in return for information. They told of a kit once born to their previous tribe. He held the face of horror, identical to the face they spoke of within legends. He was promised to be the dreaded child they always knew would occur, the child who would bring the Apocalypse. However, on the day they attempted to execute him the child fled, seizing a mask within the woods and abruptly vanishing into the night. They had never seen him again, and disbanded when their Elders fled their home out of fear.
This was enough to intrigue Belial, the man of horrors. Slaying the foxes he had met, Belial left with a smirk upon his face. He'd find this creature and bring him home to his den. He'd make a pet out of this fox, and see if the stories spoke truth. How much power would he hold if he obtained the destroyer of days?
The woods shifted, catching Belial off-guard. A faint sound echoed in the distance, similar to that of a crying child. A wing twitched, extending slightly to push aside a branch threatening to scrape across his face. Oh? That voice, while odd, was a Modifoxes, he knew it.
He lightened his steps, avoiding twigs as his body followed the alluring sound of sorrow. Perhaps tonight would be his lucky night.
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