[Fingers twitching. Muscles spasming, anticipating violence. Hunger rises in her throat, sharp as a knife's point, and she grinds her teeth without thinking. She can hear her prey - scuttle tap tap - many legs propelling it through the darkness, stride certain in safety, and she cannot help how hunger twists her lips into a hideous, bared mockery of a smile. She can almost taste the cracking of carapace beneath her teeth.
The drider must sense something, the way hunted prey tend to, for it pauses - and that is its mistake. It does not run. It does not think anything can challenge it.
She looses her arrow.
A whirlwind of shrieks, curses. The arrow's lodged deep in the side of its head. Edema of the cranium is inevitable and its functions will begin to shut down. But it is still alive - and it will fight to survive, suffering all the while.
She changes position, watching for a new opening, savoring and detesting the screams.
no subject
The drider must sense something, the way hunted prey tend to, for it pauses - and that is its mistake. It does not run. It does not think anything can challenge it.
She looses her arrow.
A whirlwind of shrieks, curses. The arrow's lodged deep in the side of its head. Edema of the cranium is inevitable and its functions will begin to shut down. But it is still alive - and it will fight to survive, suffering all the while.
She changes position, watching for a new opening, savoring and detesting the screams.
Her kin is welcome to partake in the feast.]