Sentinel

Chapter 22 - By scent we hunt

Dedicated to Parogar (again) because I got about... 500 reads in 4-5 days after he voted on it. And because P.I.E / Q.S! are amazing. 

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 Chapter 22 - By scent we hunt

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Peering into the night, the Hunter growled.

He knew they were near. Every pore ached with the knowledge. The lurking darkness curled within him, directing him, urging him on. It was a relentless, pounding sensation that grated against his consciousness, driving him further into madness -- and he enjoyed it. The adrenaline, the black blood coursing through him heated his limbs against the night's chill. The scent swirled around his nostrils, which flared in anticipation. His claws longed to taste flesh. It had been too long since they'd torn a fleshling apart, spilling their internal organs across the ground.

The Hunter inhaled deeply. The fleshlings were close. Soon... soon his claws would drip with deliciously warm blood. He beat his massive hands against his armour plated body, feeling the vibration run through him. The feeling pleased him. His horns tingled with delight. 

He remembered how he too had once been coated in soft flesh. He, unlike his prey had the sense to change his weakness. Trading skin for plates and talons, he had made a deal that would forever change his existence. The pain was memorable, but he dismissed it. It was nothing compared to the pleasure of the hunt.

His only regret was that his creator no longer walked the land. The man claiming the title of 'Master' now was barely a shadow of the true creator. The Hunter smirked at his own wit. Only a shadow. His cunning astounded him sometimes.

The enormous tainted sniffed the air, searching.

The scent was harder to follow. Harder than usual. The wind twisted the trail, but he was used to that. He enjoyed the challenge it presented. No, the difficulty, he decided, was due to the incompetence of his 'Master'.

Fury rose in his chest. He slammed the ground with his tail, a grunt of pleasure escaping him as a nearby sapling collapsed under its weight.

Good, he thought. Plants are nothing to demonkind. They are nothing against my might!

His thought was cut short as he sensed something behind him. The Hunter turned to find himself met with the glare of another tainted.

The unknown tainted stepped forward and rammed Hunter with his horns. The Hunter growled, the vibration rattling through his still form as anger coursed through his veins. The tainted stepped back in alarm. When Hunter did not move further, the tainted puffed its chest out and stuck its chin high.

"You are weak," it declared, turning to face the rest of the pack. "Hunter has lost the scent! He is not fit to lead the hunt! I challenge him for leadership!" it said, roaring to the crowd of demons.

Murmured opinions rose up through the ranks at the outburst. Waves of dissent threatened to take Hunter's patience. He did not have time for this. The Hunter twitched his shoulder as the opposition spread like disease.

There was always one. The Hunter snorted loudly and swung his gaze upon the upstart demon. He lashed his tail, flinging a small shrub to the side as he brought the full force of his stare to the challenger. The smaller demon flinched, but held his ground. A Vercton mark adorned his brow. He was young, barely a month past his rebirthing, if the Hunter was guessing correctly.

Fool, the Hunter thought. He shall make an example to the rest.

"No." With that, the Hunter turned away, peering once again into the dark forest.