- Messages
- 36
- Character Biography
- Link
Pretty's distressed action regarding his statement only reinforced Blazh's theory. The devourer had a moderately developed grasp on linguistics of sapient creatures. Pretty lived near a human settlement, or at least came there often enough. There was a possibility of him learning bits and pieces of human speech through said interactions. The theory made him raise an eyebrow. It also made him re-evaluate his subversion in regards to Devourer intelligence. If they could understand human speech, then they were clearly more intelligent than dogs, and even some primates.
Sadly, it became obvious that Devourers, Pretty included, couldn't speak. Even if they understood the words and their meaning, they couldn't respond. It made him wonder if one could strike up a fruitful conversation with a Devourer.
Blazh hummed a low tune, looking satisfied with the discovery. So far he had gathered a couple important information regarding the devourer's biology and physiology. Their musculoskeletal structure, bone armor, high lung capacity and very high red blood cell count. Increased lung capacity and oxygen carrying ability of Pretty's blood bestowed the creature with increased stamina.
It was superior to that of Ursids and Felids, being more in line with canine endurance capabilities. That would explain how Pretty moved hundreds of meters at almost full speed without dropping dead from exhaustion. After all, the devourer was well over half a ton in weight. Blazh didn't know the exact number, but he made an educated guess. It had to be somewhere in a 900 to 1000 kg ballpark.
Blazh clicked his tongue, satisfied with how the events had unraveled so far. Grabbing a humble notebook from the table, he traced his fingers over its leather-bound exterior. He opened it, equipping a crude mechanical quill to his free hand. The paper was clear and perfect, as white as new snow once the storm has passed.
He started making notes. They were nothing special, just some pointers and reminders. He'd add more later, right now it was important to write down the more obscure details. His memory was good, but Blazh didn't feel like testing his luck today. If he forgot anything, he'd be forced to catch another Devourer. He jolted up at the thought of going through that clusterfuck a second time.
A handful of minutes had passed, he closed the book and set it aside. Making sure to leave the quill between the pages. Blazh then pulled up a chair. Olden but comfy. Fashioned from oiled Oak wood, the chair had little feather pillows attached to it. Sitting down almost instantly, Blazh crossed his legs and looked at Pretty.
The dim lightning amplified the exotic appearance of his eyes. The sclera was pitch black, contrasting the room's gloomy corner. And the irises were ghastly blue. Their glow only amplified by scleras light absorbing properties. His irises bounced up and down each time he repositioned his head to get a better look at Pretty.
He found it almost comical. The creature before him was erratic, foolish even. I didn't understand the complex machinations of his work. It thought that Blazh would harm it somehow. It'd be a lie to say that Blazh didn't derive some pleasure from spooking Pretty. Because he sure as hell did. His advanced age gave him an oddly acquired sense of humor.
“So.” He began, one foot dangling in the air, crossed over the other leg for support. He spoke slowly, meticulously. His words purposefully drawn out as he searched for what to say. He finally settled down on a simple question. “You think I am going to kill you? Is that why you are acting so erratic?”
Pretty Boy
