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Maybe.
But I have no patience for playing hide and seek with my prey. They will see me coming. They will see their deaths.
They will certainly feel their deaths.
Next time, I will try to be stealthy. The taste of surprise in the blood and flesh of whatever I am eating is quite exquisite.
That, I have to admit to myself.
My favorite meals are dark elves. They taste like nothing else I have ever consumed.
And in my centuries of living…
Centuries Tanem? Have you truly lived that long?
In my centuries of living, I have never tasted anything like a dark elf. Their flesh is soft, supple, tender.
Their dark sorcery flows through their veins, providing me with strength and keeping me sated days after the meal.
My fangs are extending from my gums, just think about them.
The muscles in the tentacles that are sealed into my back flex and twist. They are hungry.
“Shh. Be still.” The words slip from between my fangs. My low, guttural voice a growl more than anything else.
I catch the scent of humans when I lift my head to the air. My nose wrinkles involuntarily.
I am not the biggest fan of eating humans. But perhaps tonight I will find something sweet to calm my tentacles.
Maybe tonight, I should do the easy thing and give up on hunting the dark elves who have probably sensed my presence in the city.
The humans are in a hurry, that much I gather from the way their energy sparks and whips in the air.
Their voices are low, their footsteps hurried. I follow them, my footsteps soft and swift against the cobblestoned ground.
My body has remained muscular, strong, and lean, despite my years of living.
I find it fascinating that humans age to become decrepit creatures, unable to help themselves.
The group of humans turn a dark corner, and my tentacles lift from where they were hanging down my back. I loom over them, and the fools still do not see me.
You are so hungry.My voice speaks silently in my head, coaxing me on.
I am about to attack, to grab one or two, when the scent reaches me. The fragrance is like nothing I have ever smelled before.
It is fresh and bright and so sweet. It smells even better than the magical blood of the dark elves.
Whatever it is, it is coming from the humans. I retract my tentacles, against their protests.
I can’t eat yet. Not until I have found the source of the scent.
I am aware that my heart is racing and my stomach is twisting. My skin prickles as I follow the humans around corner after corner.
Soon, we come up to a one-story building with a low roof. I can’t go in just as I am, so I wait for the humans to enter.
What is this place? I can hear dozens of footsteps crossing the dirt floor inside. A thousand different scents mingle and exude from the building.
I allow the darkness to cover me, slipping inside before the elf guarding the door can see me.
