A deep red covers Genrit'khaath's otherwise pure white body as he steps around the outside of his cave. Huge streaks of crimson gore have stained his brilliant scales, yet to be washed off. He personally loathes having such a gruesome image, much preferring the white shining brilliance he is capable of. But ever since he was freed he has needed to fight to regain his territory. Looking like you've just gutted twelve other dragons helps assert dominance to any larger creatures you come across. The massive dragon has managed to smear himself from snout to tail with the blood of the creatures he has slain in order to gain a more intimidating appearance. And when you're as large as Genrit, it works.

A collection of what appears to be various bones rests outside of his cave, a warning to any passersby not to disturb whatever resides within. However, they are merely illusions. Rocks filled with magic and turned into tricks of the eye. Genrit would never bother actually transporting the bones of the creatures he feeds on, much preferring to eat them. He taps a stained claw against one of the larger rocks in a new pile, taking a deep breath as he begins the illusion. The rock takes on the appearance of a half-dragon's skull. This makes him grunt once in acknowledgement of his choice before he moves on to four more small rocks. It has taken time, only transforming a few a day, but the pile of fake bones has become a fearsome display, even stretching inside of the cave a small distance.

Satisfied with his progress, he decides that it's time that he did a patrol for the day. Maybe find something to eat if he spots something big enough. He turns and walks away a certain distance before flapping his wings, propelling himself in the air. He has regained his strength by now, carrying himself far up into the air and looking at the area around him. A grumble rises through his throat as he thinks about where to head. Maybe today is a good day to wash, it has been quite some time. His own vanity will prompt him to clean his scales and keep them that way for a few days, but the need to maintain appearance is always there. He tilts his body to the side and flies towards the forest, his powerful wings beating loudly.

He goes out further than he usually does, feeling like he has the luxury to explore on account of him having nothing else planned. Though he is certainly looking forwards to the metals back at the cave that he managed to get his hands on when he caught out some traders passing by near Pyresia. He didn't need to even kill them for it, one look at him and hearing the deep, powerful roar of his and they couldn't give him what he wanted and run away fast enough. Genrit'khaath smirks to himself as he remembers this. To be expected of someone as brilliant as him, really.

He manages to spot a river and starts trailing along it. Easy. He's bound to spot something eventually, covering ground as quickly as he is. Not much time passes before he sees something. A dire boar, all on its lonesome. Just what he was looking for. Without hesitation he arcs downwards, his wings folding against his body as he speeds towards his prey. His wings fold out just as he is about to make contact, slowing him enough so that the following impact doesn't end with him splatted across the ground himself, having only needed the speed to take the beast by surprise.

The impact of his claws digging into the boar and slamming it to the ground causes the earth beneath them to shake. He cracks the boar's skull, but not enough to kill it. It lets out loud, pained squeals as it writhes in place, being held down by the strength and weight of the massive dragon. He doesn't bother himself with trying to find a way to finish it off by throwing it around or bashing its head against the ground. Instead, his already bloodied mouth starts tearing away at its underbelly, starting to eat it alive. Genrit growls aggressively as he starts tearing the dire boar apart, brutally eviscerating it.