[ amos is able to get away. the limbs he cuts fall twitching to the ground, in little clicks that denote some chitin on its legs compared to the soft meat of its body. unfortunately for amos, it didn’t really need those legs, nor did it need to be that close in the first place. it drifts to cover the space amos has tried to create, and the second time it’s in proximity—
—it simply breathes in.
but dextera knows what that breath does. he’s died from it. in the past, its kin have crept silently upon him and done exactly the same when he was too tired to run. it isn’t a bloody death, which is part of the reason he’s summoned it—amos doesn’t have to die at all, but there’s no dignity in the way it’ll drain him of his vitality, leaving him weak enough for dextera to pluck that sand. it will breathe in his very life until its full, and only luck can decide what will become of amos by then.
either way, it’ll be humiliating, and the spiteful part of dextera wants to see it. ]
no subject
—it simply breathes in.
but dextera knows what that breath does. he’s died from it. in the past, its kin have crept silently upon him and done exactly the same when he was too tired to run. it isn’t a bloody death, which is part of the reason he’s summoned it—amos doesn’t have to die at all, but there’s no dignity in the way it’ll drain him of his vitality, leaving him weak enough for dextera to pluck that sand. it will breathe in his very life until its full, and only luck can decide what will become of amos by then.
either way, it’ll be humiliating, and the spiteful part of dextera wants to see it. ]