The soil was gnotted coarse through the years spent lain in cold blood. How it stung and braised my joints, and serrated my claws, I do not remember. The air was stifling, and the pool I drank from was cold, musked and stagnant. How they seared my eyes, and humbled my throat, I do not remember.

The soil was gnotted coarse through the years spent lain in cold blood. How perfect for which to tear my victim slowly from within his skin; How well my claws gripped the flesh, as our surroundings slowly gripped their sanity, I do remember.

The air was stifling, and the pool I drank from was cold, musked and stagnant. How perfect for the hunt, that even to make a sound would bring such a burning pain; How well the flesh would taste, and how tender it would baste in the pool of its own blood, I do remember.

I tower over my victim as he lay dying. It wasn't that I didn't have time to let him pass, but that I had no remorse. We almost seemed together in our own little hell. Enthralled in the reek of his blood and feces, the miasma encasing us was tangible.

I ripped.

I consumed.

I tore.

I devoured.

I ripped... and then he stepped into the cave for the first time.

At first I didn't stop what I had lived to do, and neither had my victim, but the man was persistent. As he drew ever closer, ever more slowly I became uneasy; Maybe I even became angry. I quickly tore half my victim's hand, and spat it at the Sorcerer's feet, and yet there he remained, staring complacently into my eyes. I returned his gaze, albeit with a great deal more emotion, and pain.

Seconds had passed...

Seconds had turned into minutes...

Minutes had turned into hours...

Hours had turned into days...

My gaze was set upon the ground, having lost its edge, yet his remained ever the more peircing, forever upon me! He stood there strong over the corpse that had long since passed, and I had backed into a dank corner, where I couldn't help but let out a small, disgustingly pathetic whimper. Finally, he spoke for the first time.

"Serve unto me, and I promise that you will consume, you will devour only the most worthy of souls; However, you must only do so when I say."

The soil was gnotted coarse through the years spent lain in cold blood. How it stung and braised my joints, and serrated my claws, I do not remember.

The air was stifling, and the pool I drank from was cold, musked and stagnant. How they seared my eyes, and humbled my throat, I do not remember.

How I have forgotten the pain, but have kept the kill, I will never forget.

Everything; Forever for Lord Danion.