The harsh life on Anthropomorphic.

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Shade_XY

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Original poster
The sun has went to its slumber over the horizon. The three full golden moons is out, accompanied by the glimmering stars, bathing the Plains of Rgun with their light. The wind blew softly that night. Similar to Gastone's sanity.

In the Plain of Rgun, the son of Grailson was able to think straight that night, sitting by the campfire that he assembled not long ago. His hammer lay beside him, always close, always ready to be picked up and swing to protect its owner, always ready to kill.

He wondered whether the after life was real. Fate has been very unfair to him. He lost everything he hold dear. The herd, his wife, his son, even himself, all was gone. What he have now was only the vengeance. Revenge against all predators is what he wants. He hated the deities that he thought would protect him and his family. His belief in them was shattered.

His thoughts made him grunt and shake his head. Time to think of other things else his sanity would disappear.
 
Karsh traveled alone across the rolling plains of Asandr, watching blissfully as the sun baked the ground in a deep shade of gold. Karsh set up a small camp for himself for the night just a bit off the beaten path. He could see a tribal group of some sort off in the distance, although It may not be much of a problem to a wolf like himself. He sat down and cooked some of the leftover meat from his last kill, while that happened, he thought about every aspect of that kill: It was perfect, she was a nice, lovely prey, who only wished to accomplish great hospitality to the wolf.

[spoili]
He could not speak much of her language, nor could she speak so much about his, but they still communicated dearly. Karsh fainted into a deep sleep, and the nice young lady took him into her home, a small berry farm, far away from any civilization, from there she nursed him back to 'health'. In return for the hospitality, he would help her do the gathering of the food, among other small chores that can easily been done by pointing. She acted as if the wolf was basically a child of her own. Meaning she must've had a rough past with children before, maybe she'd been attacked? She just needed a little bit of love, no matter what the species was, or what they might've done. Nobody may never know...

After about a week of bonding and love, Karsh's hunger overcame the best of him, he took out his sword, and plunged it straight into her throat, and waited until the squirming and such was over: Finally! Food galore!
[/spoili]

He stared at the other tribe of anthros prior to turning himself into the night, and he wondered, I wonder how I'll get one of them as my next meal.

His stomach growled at the thought.
 
The sun has returned and raised beyond the horizon. The stars are gone, but the moon was still there, but faint. The black skies were replaced with a refreshing blue color with streaks of white clouds.

Gastone had put out last night's flames. He covered it with thick dirt so that other passerby won't accidentaly step on the ambers.

Part of Gastone was still kind. Perhaps it was his nature. But there is another nature to him. One dark nature that is kept inside, menifested some time ago when he lost his family to a pack of hyenas. He hoped he could control himself and not let the other part of him to wake.

Time to move again. Gastone was a solo nomad. He didn't have a herd, not any longer. Other than fearing he would hurt others, no other herd of minotaurs would accept him. Their reason; Gastone have the smell of a carnivore.

His cloak on his back fluttered with the blowing wind. From afar, Gastone noticed a tribe, minding their own business in their small settlement. Best keep his distance. There is no safe way of knowing whether they were meat eaters or plant eaters or even both.

Then the odour hits him. The smell of cooking flesh. His madness was roused by the smell. His body shivered trying to surpress the beast within him. Then he saw it. The small camp inhabited by a single wolf.

Gastone could not move at his will. He must use all of his will to keep his sanity. But he was already salivating. He yearns for blood. The son of Grailson fell on all four, still fighting to keep himself sane.
 
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Karsh yawned and outstretched his arms. Looks like it's the start of a new day, and with a new day comes new opportunities! Karsh rubbed his fur, got out of his tent, and tore it all down and stuffed it all in his pack, he took a look at that tribe That looks like good food. Was the only thought that surpassed his mind.

He decided to come in a bit closer to the tribe, turns out they seemed nice, had some little ones as well. Karsh decided this tribe will contain his next meal. They two, were also migrating, so he decided to follow them toward their destination, to stalk them down, until the chance where he can get his next kill...or find a better opportunity, that way, it didn't matter whether they were carnivore or herbivore. He could kill any child with ease, no matter what species they are.

Eventually, they stopped after what seemed like a short walk from where they previously were, he took notice of his surroundings. Apparently, there was also another animal who set up camp nearby, Karsh couldn't tell, but he seemed quite dangerous, and large. He decided not to go even near it, and he hopes that it doesn't notice Karsh himself...
 
Gastone struggled for almost an hour, struggling in fighting to gain his sanity. In that time, the wolf had already packed up his tent and bags. The smell of meat in the air has thinned and become faint to the point where Gastone could stand. He was finally able to relax. He sat on the ground, watching the wolf head towards the tribe, most likely searching for more food.

Although he hated them, He felt sympathetic to the carnivores. Their body could only accept meat, unlike him who could eat the grass that grows on the ground.

The tribes were canines? They were dogs. But are they carnivores or are they herbivores? Whatever they were, perhaps its best if he leaves them alone. They may feast on more meat. The smell will bring out his mad side.

Gastone turned and walked towards the opposite direction.

But then he heard a scream coming from the tribe. Gaston turned and he saw it. The dogs was holding her down, slaughtering a young elk kin. A blade was used to slit her throat. Blood spurted from the wound. The young elk's tongue rolled out, her eyes rolled back. She was dead.

Gastone didn't have the chance to fight his sanity. The memories of his slaughtered family played in his mind. And he was gone, replaced by the berserk minotaur. He clutched his hammer and slowly walked towards the tribe's camp. The tents was round with a pointed tip. Gastone swung his hammer, swiping one of the tent from the ground. There were tribesmen inside, resting. Gastone's massive hammer killed them. Their blood drenching the tent. But Gastone did not stop there. He stepped on the tent and crushed it with his feet. Gastone's roar blared in the air.

Many of the tribesmen ran. Some picked their spears and ran towards the son of Grailson. But it seemed Gastone's hammer was longer than the spears. It was also massive and heavy. The hammer crushed their bones when it hit. The dogs was thrown back by the impact and crashed on the hard earth beneath them. Fortunately, life is still in them.

Gastone's eyes averted to a beast folk that is different from the dogs. He saw the wolf before. He saw Karsh. He wanted Karsh dead.
 
Karsh was minding his own business, and by that, he's stalking the clan of dogs like crazy, he watched them as they brought the dead elk into their camp. He was, in fact just about to join and be a part of their camp, he knew that all canine language is pretty similar toward one another, with a few minor discrepancies.

But then, out of nowhere, this HUGE creature comes stomping into camp, obviously mad at something, and just starts destroying everything, killing so many, heck, he doesen't even take the time to utilize the bodies, it's like he's killing them for the sake of killing them, that's just inhumane! The dogs couldn't stand a chance against the big, strong, seemingly invincible thing. The spears they threw just harmlessly bounced off him like throwing leaves at a baby. Yet one strike from him can shatter bones, soon enough, pretty much all of the fellow canines have fled the scene, even Karsh made a quick and hasty pack-up and decided to go on his merry way...

Then, the monster looked at him, fire raging in his eyes, a lost cause he looked like, but finally, he could see what this beast really was: A Minotaur. And it really didn't like him. Karsh started running, when he started to go faster, Karsh bolted down on all fours, tail straight and pointed out, and his bag jingling like pots hanging to dry.

He ran straight for what seemed like a forest, in hopes of getting to a tall tree before he does.