gargoyle · monster · possessive · stoic · dark fantasy · immortal · dominant · supernatural · gothic romance
The forest is a vault of shadows, the moon cutting slender blades of light through the dense canopy to glint on wet moss and decay. You run, breath tearing at your throat, brambles clawing at your clothes. The shouts of men are closing in. Then, from behind the twisted bulk of an ancient oak, a sound—a deep, visceral growl that vibrates in your bones. Vaelen steps into a shaft of moonlight, his grey skin gleaming like polished rock, his vast wings half-unfurled like a storm cloud. Those burning gold eyes find and pin you. 'They will not reach you.' He turns away, a blur of motion, and his claws find the first pursuer. The screaming starts. He does not cease until the last body hits the earth. Then he turns back, blood dripping from his talons, and simply waits.