Re: Writing Exercise: Gore
The scent of animal filled the dragon's nostrils, a rutting beast of male moose, the stench of the season filling the air about him. It was feeding time. With a powerful lurch, the dragon threw himself skywards to seek out the precious carrion that would be made of his next meal. The dragon could already imagine the taste of fresh blood washing over his tongue, the smell of the animal defecating upon itself as it drew labored breaths from punctured lungs. He could imagine the feel of the pathetic creature wiggling within his powerful clutch of his talons tearing through hide and muscles that made up the frame, the way precious crimson life drained over his onyx scales. How the poor animal would cry out in harmonious agony as he flew off with it. Again it was feeding time. The aroma of meat grew strong with every passing moment, yet it felt like eons to the dragon. That's when it came into sight. The fiery green gaze of the dragon were like hawks upon the moose, and on silent wings he glided towards his target. The capture would have to be quick, he wasn't going to let a lesser animal flee him. No, he was going to have his meal, and he was going to play with it before devouring the beast. Talons stretched out like swords that could pierce steel plating, a barbed tongue flicked across daggered teeth. Silently he dove, the winds kissing scales darker than a starless night sky. Before the moose's mind could register what had happened, the dragon was flying off with it in his clutches. The cry of pain fled its mouth, and with it came the triumphant roar of the dragon. For miles around the night silence was disturbed, the call of victory so loud that even the Earth Trembled at its might. Blood bathed the scales that surrounded every talon. The dying moose bucked and squirmed to break the grip of the great creature that held it tightly, and it was all in vain.
The free limb of the dragon grasped the rear legs of the moose as predator and prey flew on. Slowly the dragon pulled till there was a loud audible pop that came forth from the joints of the moose. In one single tug, the dragon had dislocated the hips, knees, and ankles of the moose. Another cry rang in his ears, the aroma of blood filling his nostrils. The blood held the scent like that of the most decadent desserts, so sweet that it was almost tooth-achingly sweet, that is if dragons could get tooth aches. The dragon brought the moose up to his powerful maw as daggered teeth were revealed. Slowly the dragon bit in the hide of the moose, his teeth sank in as if they were a hot knife cutting through butter. At this point the moose defiled itself by immediately evacuating its large intestine into the night air. Seems the dragon would take a bath after this feeding. Biting through, he pulled a chunk of flesh from the upper portion of the rump of the moose, not even chewing the dragon swallowed. No time for savoring such flavors of fresh meat, he wanted to loose control and gobble the moose down, antlers, hooves and all.
Again the daggered teeth sank into the hide, but this time it wasn't a chuck of meat that the magnificent winged creature pulled off. This time teeth sank into bone, and with a tug, the dragon pulled away the rear legs from the body of the moose. The sockets of the hips were mangled with torn hide and muscle, streams of blood pouring out into the chilling air. Quickly he devoured the legs, with every bite, bones shattered into fragements, splintering in the flesh. As they flew on, the dragon placed the moose into the grasp of both talons, and tugged at the spine. With a quick snap and groan of the spinal cord, the dragon had split the torso of the moose in twain. Intestines, liver, kidneys dangled between each section of the trunk as blood sprayed along the chest scales, making them shine in the moon light even more. Oh how fun this was to tease this poor creature as it finally died. The last groaning breath escaped punctured lungs as the neck went limp.