a monster to fight a monster

"Disgusting."

A low baritone, a scoff, and a kick that sends rocks scattering into an oil-slicked surface. The iridescent shimmer grows, rippling from the impact point in a strange way. The water must be a little thicker, or this sheen was affecting it more than just sight-wise. The smell alone makes his nose wrinkle under his mask, and both sets of eyes shift toward the fish that float belly-up, drifting haphazardly, catching on shallower stones in some places and stinking up the area even more.

Roux had only come here because he had heard the rumors. Monster. 

For someone so set on avoiding people, he seems to come out a lot for monsters, doesn't he? Then again, shifting into his other form and fighting monsters is a way to ease his own thoughts; he doesn't have to really focus on it. Just on the fight at the time. It's a good way to avoid his own demons, really.

Light flickers, a flash that erupts in the distance, and he barely catches it before he gazes over the sky, where the darkness is creeping up. Fighting in the dark will be a hell of a challenge, but he doesn't have to worry too much. There aren't many that are lingering around; he hasn't seen a single other person since he'd trekked off toward the river in the first place. 

Besides, he had to get away from the cities and stretch his legs a little. It was nice. 

Another flicker, but this one dances in place, and his muzzle wrinkles slightly, lips lifting to bare sharp golden teeth in agitation. Cloven hooves shift, kicking up another rock and sending it skittering across the bridge. It clicks and clacks along the path, stuttering to a more muted noise on the other side in the mud and dirt. The flames don't vanish, and he steps forward, clacking onto the bridge with a shiver that runs down his entire spine. His body shakes from head to the end of his tail, his breathing catching slightly.

He draws in air, the shift of magic rippling over him as he crosses. He grows, shifts, bones cracking and breaking as he makes it into the dirt on the other side. The bridge holds behind him, thumping only when a heavy tail slams it. Skulls erupt, one on either side of his head, skeletal canine jaws parting and salivating as he drags in air.

He grows larger and larger, shoulders brushing thirty-five hands and he finds it in himself to gurgle out a laugh, wings erupting in a splash of gold fluid that drips into the river. It doesn't change the color, only disturbs the oily layer on top before it returns to its former state. Nothing moves in this jungle now, no bird calls, no insects, even as the sun disappears beyond the horizon.

Monsters indeed.

The flames are still there, and his new form ambles forward with claws and paws, wings shuddering as he hunches onto all fours, crawling with golden eyes that spark deep in black sockets. Ah, now he can smell them.

Them.

Two monsters, what a delight.

The Pyre had been a mindless brute, forcing itself north as it destroyed everything in its path. But these two.. they weren't moving.

There's an acrid smell in the air, one that causes him to hesitate, three sets of ears shifting around to listen closely at the same time. Two would be a challenge, and Roux loves challenges, especially in this state.

Paws and claws all dig in, burying into thick mud as the smell mingles with the acrid one. Poison, perhaps? It would explain the way the fish are dead, and it wouldn't be a shock, coming from a monster.

He can taste his own acrid breath on his tongue, sharp and ready to be used. The breath weapon would come last; he doesn't need to use it when he can just fight these damn things hand to hand. How big were they? Would they be fun?

There's an itch in his brain, the inner monster digging at his thoughts, inserting more barbaric urges. Carnal and primitive; violent. 

Maybe he does need to focus.

A breath is dragged into straining lungs tapping against curved golden ribs that vibrate with a rumbling snarl lodged into three separate throats.

It wriggles out, and he steps forward, mouths opening. He'll follow the gleaming flames first.

Steps are taken, and he's careful, all ears on alert and eyes scanning as he steps toward the flames, keeping low and quieter.

Strange; he's normally so ready to throw himself into the fray, but with the separate scents, he doesn't want to be caught unawares like some sort of amateur.

In fact, the closer he gets, the more one scent is jarringly more powerful, and he tenses, legs throwing himself to the side as a screech rips through the twilight of the jungle, and his heads swivel up, lifting himself to his rear legs and front arms reaching to protect himself. Something stabs into one, and he snarls, all three sets of jaws coming down to bite onto a shining body. They struggle, with him refusing to let go until the monster throws him with the force of its head, and he tumbles. He manages to get all four limbs under himself, standing on rear legs again as he catches sight of what he assumes is the first monster.

It locks onto him, and he knows he has to fight at this point.

With a sharp stabbing beak and a thin body, he'll have to fucking fence this thing, but that's fine with him. As it lifts its ugly head to scream, all three jaws open from him as well as he bellows in response, roaring deep and low, vibrating the air as he lunges forward. His claws rend and tear, and he goes for physical attacks this time.

He could summon the dead later.

For now, he wanted his teeth and claws bloody, to smell the blood spilled.

All thoughts of the second monster were gone. This one first.