Meat.

“Uhhh...” The witch chuckled nervously as she tried to find the words for a proper answer. “They both sound like... kind of definitive choices...?”

“If I really had to pick, I guess I’d go with the second. That’s more of a spectacular option. But I’d delay that decision as much as I could.”

gAH, OK, NEED GO

GO WHERE? FIND PLACE

Right, ok, look around: Window, uh, outside, uh Sky- SKY, no wait, I don’t know her coordinates. shIT.

Uh, Mirror- bathtub- water- ocean- BOAT- LARRY- wait, he could be in shark infested waters for all we know... SHIT.

Ok, Omen- Body- Ass- Cake- I HATE THIS- WAIT... FELIX! Well, actually, he might stab us if we surprise him... godDAMN IT

THINK, KEANE, THINK-

Mirror- Omen- Body- Abs- Meat grinder... Meat. Oh, no, NOT THINKING OF GOWL, DEFINITELY

Ding. Five seconds had passed.

The two would find themselves in the middle of a snowy forest... it’s particularly dark, and the wind carries a soft, wet cold upon it. Branches crack and leaves rustle all around them.

She heaved a big breath of relief for having escaped that trap of a bathroom and allowed herself a nervous but genuine laugh. “My goodness, now I’m not sure if I’ll have nightmares about that or I won’t be able to hold back in front of him anymore... I-I mean,” she cleared her throat. He was indeed attractive. But that was the worst moment to consider him in that way. The situation, his attitude and moves, the whole setting... She snorted again. She should have never seen that. She didn’t regret seeing it though. What a mess. A light shudder brought her back to the present though.

A single breath old cold air comes from the forest; a pair of golden eyes staring from the shadows of the forest night. The crunch of wood and snow, of ice and dead leaves is audible as something approaches. 

Recruitment requirements: Must have no Good aligned party members and The Bloodied Doll.

Recruitment Dialogue: “No… Remorse… No…. Regrets… Gowl hunts…. with… pack…. again…”

Special Ability: Atrocity: Gowl restores a significant amount of health when any Human is killed.

Equipment: Vicious Claws, Prey Beads (Wielder has a chance to apply fear on any attack.)

Encounter with Rival: N/A (hopefully added sometime in the future.)

Recruiting partner:  N/A (hopefully added sometime in the future.)

Encounter with Big Bad: ”Kills many… prey fear… wasted meat.. wasted meat. WASTED MEAT. WASTED MEAT!”

Death: “No…. hunger…. anymore?”

Tagged by: Myself

Petition to let Shaco and Jack adopt Gowl as a pet and/or child. He is a baby and needs looking after. Growing boy needs feeding.

Thank you.

Send 🎤 & a question (about mun or muse, pls specify) to hear my answer in a recording

The beast smells blood on the air, his eyes glaring over the seashore… the meat was aged; not salty enough… not meat… bait. If something wants to trick him… something wants to fight him… wants to kill Gowl.

He must establish dominance.

With a deep roar, Gowl begins to purposely move away from the scent, towards the nearest source of prey on land…. a home, no more than 300 meters out from the shore. The sprint began.

A child plays outside, unaware of the approaching presence at the seaside’s high edge.

Well, shit. There goes his plan.

Leng Yun has to admit, the beast is quite speedy. It might even be able to outrun Leng Yun’s gales.

Without hesitation, the dragon shakes off the bait and gives chase. He could not allow this… whatever it is, to wreak much more havoc. He has his own morals and reputation to uphold. And, of course, murder is bad!

Goood... Goooood. The trickster moves to defend the prey. Predictable. Easy fight. Easy kill. Easy meat.

Gowl slows, taking up his full stance to challenge his opponent, unleashing a piercing wail; the sound of fates beyond death resonating in his cry. The child, shocked and now aware of the towering monstrosity, takes flight to the safety of her home. Gowl feels the hears of her heartbeat against her chest; the smell of fear pungent... the meat was soured, for now. A task for later.

He must establish dominance.

With a deep roar, Gowl begins to purposely move away from the scent, towards the nearest source of prey on land.... a home, no more than 300 meters out from the shore. The sprint began.