nepetaleijon | (no subject)

(no subject)

It's about an hour after sundown; there's still a little light in the sky, enough that it isn't totally black, but there's no trace of direct sunlight left.

Nepeta's scampering happily up one of the mountain trails that doesn't lead to her cave, a yard or so ahead of Shephard.

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It's not spitting poison at him and it hasn't deployed a sonic area attack yet. That automatically puts it in, at best, third place for things he does not want to be near.

Doesn't mean he's not going to give slashing it to pieces his absolute best shot on its next pass, you understand.

The thing's scales are pretty thick, but not so thick that his knife can't cut through them; more blood splatters, and another hissing shriek goes up.

And is cut off abruptly, as Nepeta finally manages to put a pawful of claws through the monster's eyes and into its brain. It's another moment before its thrashing starts to peter out.

Nepeta sits back on her haunches, and lets out a delighted whoop of victory.

"Jesus fucking mother of ass," says Shephard as he wipes at his face with the back of his forearm. "What the hell shit fuck is that thing?"

"Fish meownster of some kind," she says, happily. "It looks a little like an Alternian rifur serpent, but those don't have such sturdy legs."

Shephard looks at it, thinks about it, and finally nods. "I'mma take your word for it," he says. "I got no idea how to cook it, but it looks like your sort of dinner anyways. You want me to scale it or anything?"

She shakes her head. "This one's big enough fur at least two meals. I'll take the leftofurs home."

And without further ado she slices the thing's belly open and happily falls to on its entrails.

... troll. They're like that. Karkat did warn him.

"You have fun with that, then," says Shephard, and goes to have a look at the water again. Just in case that thing had friends with a penchant for lunging out of the water in search of revenge. Because it would.

Nothing appears to be lunging out of the water.

"Want to try fur more with the r33l? Meowbe further downstream?"

"Worth a shot, sure," says Shephard. "Maybe the little bastards'll let their guard down now that son of a bitch ain't there no more."

"Okay!"

She tosses an unidentifiable internal organ into her mouth, bounces up onto her feet, and captchalogues the carcass of the fishmonster.

"Let's go."

Hey, some things are best eaten fresh. Maybe not quite that fresh as far as Shephard's concerned, but he's not the one who's a troll, so it's all good.

Besides, there is a seriously sweet spot further down along the mountainside that he's got a real good feeling about.

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