[m] there is a two-fold silence

Caillen Winters · 06-06-2011, 02:04 AM

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His hand were tight, constricting, and the man's pulse fluttered against rough palms like gentle butterfly wings.

There was no joy in him for the rush of success. The attacker was done, spent - There would be no hope for him now. Caillen saw it in the panic of his eyes, that primal desperation for life even as the inevitable presence of death slid in beneath flesh, sidling up to stroke cold fingers over brittle bone.

His good eye caught the de le Poer brute's smile, but it was too late by then. His massive body was plunging downward, the talons in his thumbs digging into the man's throat, ready to rip and tear it free from his body - There was no time to stop, no time to react, as the antler pierced his pectoral muscle and slid into his heart.

For all eternity, his blue eyes watched the eyes of the other, first with that devastating hatred of the mindless beast, and then with shock - Such horrible, dreadful shock. There was a strange retching, choking sound in his throat; A trickle of blood oozed from the man's maw, just inches from Ezekiel's own face as they lay sprawled on the cold earth. A horrible sorrow ebbed into his gaze, as the monster ebbed away, and all that could be seen was that desperate loneliness, that ravaged plea for love and companionship that had eroded his heart.

Then the strength flew from his body, and as death came for him, Caillen's massive body fell sideways and lay still, the antler-weapon buried deep in his chest.

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