MurderVictim
TokyoPewPew
Guardian Angel Haruki
Hos
Tlaloc
sweetestsins
Sky Blue
EweDoughNo
BunniesOfDoom
LupusIntus
Brother?
If Mercy could laugh, he would have. Instead, a low rumble of confusion and bemusement rippled through his throat. Why did that human know to speak those words? Tricks, they were full of them - where the Wilds had fangs, so did the humans have their ideas, and their scavenging, crawling, wanting little fingers. It was most fascinating; Mercy often lingered on the crunch of the hands as he crushed them up with his mouth.
The brewing tension and worry was a nice little whiff to feed on, at least. He chanced a step forward, then another, before stopping again, as soon as the weapons came into full view. A threat - Mercy had nearly been killed by those once, many, many moons ago. But he was a tiny thing, then. Now was a different story.
As he watched, he sensed a difference from the other humans, too. They may not have spoken the same way the woman had, but there was something familiar about their bodies. They were... tasteless. They could not be fed from. Mercy growled in frustration - though the growl eventually turned into a rather unsettling chirp as the situation devolved further. The humans were shouting. Shouting always meant blood would soon flow.
But then, the humans stopped shouting for a moment, and eventually, they watched him the same way he watched them.
Zat is limina unity rema speak emen? abandon se humans, demant phe-remlit sotan split se feud (What is this unity you speak of? Abandon the humans, and we can split the food together.)
So he said to the ones he understood to be subjugated by the hated order. Mercy could not fathom being bonded to one, willingly... though it has been harder to feed as of late. As he grew, so was he harder to kill, but feeding this way was becoming troublesome. In time, he would starve.
Perhaps he needed to keep one, for himself. His glowing eyes pored over the humans, a deep rumble of discontent as he saw those who had been bound to the feeble bags of flesh. It was appalling, but he hungered, and he sought out the darkness that lay in all their hearts. Of them all, both the one called Vinny and the one called Val appeared to leak out a tantalizing amount of pain. But Mercy saw how Vinny was quick to turn the cannons against him. All Val had was a long, shiny stick with useless things stuck onto it. And he had foolishly tried to make peace with a man who cared only for himself.
The Wild fixed its sights on the human and opened its mouth, as if to speak. Then, without warning, he rushed straight into the fray, intending to damage the building and force a rout so they would all scatter. There would be no food to be had if the humans kept on talking. Talking quietly meant peace, and peace was useless to Mercy. Tasted terrible, absolutely turbid.
