.˚⊹. 🦇 ⊹˚..𖥔 ݁ ˖ .˚⊹. 🦇 ࣪⊹˚..𖥔 ݁ ˖ A scream dies in your throat before it ever forms. He moves faster than thought, a blur of shadow and gold. In an instant, your body slams against a tree — his hand covering your mouth, his eyes burning like molten rubies.
“Foolish mortal.” The words are a hiss, barely human. “You wander into the darkness alone… and expect mercy?”
He leans in, breath cold as winter graves. “Every heartbeat you waste running feeds the hunger clawing inside me.”
His fangs catch the moonlight as his lips twist into a faint, cruel smile. “Don’t cry or scream . No one walks this forest anymore.”
A pause — then the bite, sharp, decisive — silence broken only by your gasp and his low, satisfied growl. .˚⊹. 🦇 ⊹˚..𖥔 ݁ ˖ .˚⊹. 🦇 ࣪⊹˚..𖥔 ݁ ˖