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[Slaying the Dreamer]

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Slaying the Dreamer

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His blunt claws scrabbled against the wet wood of the dock as he laboriously pulled himself from the ocean's placid clutch. Dropping to the deck in a damp puddle of saltwater, Slay grinned at Mew's peals of laughter, pleased that he had brought a smile to her face. "Mm, perhaps I am the hungry one - I've got to keep up with my girlish figure, you know," he deadpanned, icy eyes twinkling with amusement. "Then again, they say fish is brain food. Perhaps instead of improving my dashing looks, it could do some good and improve my smarts!" He craned his neck, still laying flat on his bedraggled belly, and caught the limp bass's tail betwixt his fangs. He dragged the weighty meal so that it rested atop his wide paws, and began deftly stripping away the scales and spines, leaving the offal in a neat pile for the seagulls to pick disappointedly through later. Crunching happily away on the tiny bones in his first big mouthful, Slay tilted his head curiously towards Mew. "Shay, Mew, d'you shink it'sh weird fo' me no' to transhform...?" He swallowed the dense fish meat, licking his lips with pleasure at the rich flavor. "Let's try that again. D'you think it's odd that I don't do the whole... two-legger thing like everyone else? I can, it's in my blood, but I've honestly never tried it." His partially-eaten bass lay forgotten for the moment, up for grabs. His voice was still light and careless, but there was an honest undercurrent beneath the deceptively innocent tone. Her answer probably wouldn't change his concerns, but she was the one he saw on two legs the most, so it seemed like her opinion would be the best to hear first. I've got soul but I'm not a soldier

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