Antaria: Talons

In the clearing, the doe paused. Something felt wrong; not just strange or new, just... wrong.

It raised one foreleg, as though nervously considering whether to run or not.

...

There was the soft sound of a branch snapping.

A terrifying roar split the air.

Rustag fell upon the deer, his teeth and claws tearing into unprotected flesh. The deer screamed in pain and surprise, and tried desperately to get away.

Rustag would have none of that. He slammed the deer's body to the canopied floor, and grasped its neck with both bloodied hands. The deer attempted to scream once more, but this time the sound came out as a faint wheeze from its constricted throat.

Rustag sat there, leaning his weight against the animal's chest, pinning it down as it slowly suffocated under his massive hands. He waited as patiently as the predator did, looking for the point when the light finally left his prey's eyes.

He let go. The deer's head made a dull thud as it hit the forest floor.

Rustag uttered a low growl, so low as to lie beyond the range of human comprehension. He laid his hands upon the doe's soft skin, wiping the traces of blood away. He stared at the dead, warm flesh for a few seconds.

Then he bared his teeth and began to feed.

"Rustag," a voice said, from a few yards away.

Rustag started, shifting his stance so that he had full view of the interloper. He snarled to mark the kill as his, and his alone. But the man standing across from him did not move an inch.

"Rustag," the man said, viewing the predator and his kill with interest, "I see now why they call you 'deer-killer'."

"Igos Wellspring," Rustag growled, straightening to stand on two feet. Even when standing as a normal human did, Rustag was an intimidating figure.

"We know each other, it seems," Igos smiled.

"How fortunate," Rustag spat. "What do you want, Igos?"

"Nothing, really," Igos said indifferently. "I merely wished to offer you a warning."

"A warning?" Rustag laughed. "And what sort of warning would be of consequence to me, little Igos?"

"You've been far too obvious, Rustag. Too much hunting."

"There is never such a thing as 'too much hunting'," Rustag said, flexing his claws.

"You left a trail of half-eaten carcasses from here to the Allandrian border. Rumors of wild beasts are running rampant among the Lorend peasantry. It's only a matter of time before the nobles send a military company to investigate."

"What do I care for peasants, nobles or soldiers?" Rustag growled, "They would never catch me. They would never dare catch me."

"What would you do then?" Igos asked. "Kill and eat them?"

"Don't tempt me, little man."

Igos gave Rustag a knowing smile. "You know how they are, Rustag. They prefer the sense of order that they themselves impose. Anything that compromises it will get their immediate attention."

Rustag frowned. "I like to hunt," he said.

"And I like to live," Igos answered. "Keep this up, and you'll have a company of knights on your trail in less than two days. Last I heard, Rustag, you can't bite through steel armor."

Rustag snarled, baring his long teeth in Igos's direction.

Igos smoothed the front of his robe, paying Rustag no attention. "You're not in Allandria any more, Rustag. The Lorends don't have as much respect for us, and they prefer that you keep off their game."

"I will hunt them. I will hunt them and feed on their blood."

Igos's gaze became more focused, more penetrating. "And what will you do once they come at you, almost a hundred to a man? What do you think Lord Vordan will do, once he learns of your transgressions? You may act as a beast does, Rustag, but for Aran's sake, think like a human."

Rustag remained silent.

Igos folded his hands together. "I've offered you a warning," he said. "Measure it well, Rustag. It may be the only thing that anyone shall offer you."

When Rustag next looked up, Igos was gone.

Rustag crouched over the deer's carcass once again. It had stiffened and gone cold by this time; the conversation had robbed it of its warmth. Rustag still tore at it, pausing only to wolf down the larger pieces.

Igos was right. The remains of each of Rustag's prey had been quite obvious. To tell the truth, Rustag was tired of chasing deer; they were far too easy for him now.

Rustag worried one end of a thigh bone, wondering how long it would take the scavengers to arrive.

Normally Rustag left nothing to mark his passing. Perhaps a scrap of flesh here, or a shard of bone there. For a hunter, Rustag was an extremely practical person... practical enough to know that leaving behind a carcass made it -

"Bait," Rustag said, and smiled a feral smile.

Perfect.

"Come to me, little humans," he whispered.