Board Thread:Talkplays/@comment-4211788-20150508063005/@comment-11848168-20150512023626

Tullir awoke among the pile of bones left from the meal he gathered. He was an old beast, having seen seasons go by like they were days, but now, as his prey got ever closer to him, he grew impatient. his wooden sharp poles he planted in the ground still stood and were not yet being impaled into his next meal, which made him restless. When he smelled blood, he knew there was a meal to be seen, but the meal had no scent yet. He looked around him. the forestation keeping most of the sun's light from touching the soft grass. The trees would make perfect spots to ambush, but he was no hunter in that sense. He would face his prey, making them think they were equals. Like they had a chance. He huffed and waved his hands in every direction, slicing the trees his wind blades would reach. After the cracking and splintering of wood, there was nothing left but silence, several tree stumps, and trees that looked almost like mulch.

In the distance, rather faintly, he smelled a sort of fruit alien to his nostrils, but it was some distance away...