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|Subject Post 1Subject: Colmillo Lla Rias [WIP] Fri Jul 04, 2014 3:33 pm|| |
- Name: Colmillo Lla Rias
- Titles: Winter Hunter, Rias,
- Gender: Male
- Age Of Death: 15
- Appearance Age: When race becomes Arrancar: 18
- Age: 769 yrs
- Affiliation/Rank: rogue
- Appearance Description:
Colmillo towers as a twelve foot tall and twelve foot long fox hollow. Including his tails makes him nineteen feet long. His body mainly composed of toned muscle and little fat account for most of his weight, putting him at a whopping two hundred and seventy-six pounds. Though his size is never really considered by himself in battle or any other situation, as his speed outclasses many hollow. The normal hollow hole rests on his back left paw.
Icy and gazing through other's very souls. The eyes of a predator. The fox's eyes are a light almost glowing cyan. His stare often freezes his prey in fear, as they will not flicker after being locked onto something. His coat is most of the time spiked and ruffled. But it suits him. The fur is an overall white with silvery strands throughout, which give him a shiny sheen in the moonlight. Although, Colmillo seldom cares for how he looks. He would go around Hueco Mundo completely stained in the blood of his kills, if not for the annoying other hollows following the scent every waking moment. Thinking it was wounded prey otherwise a free meal. Then having their own splash of crimson give him a fresher coat of 'paint’.
Around his right wrist, Colmillo wears a silver bracelet. He acquired his name from the trinket as it was one of the first things he noticed when he awoke in Hueco Mundo. This is his most valued possession, although he doesn't know why he feels this way about it. Whenever he reads the engraving a torrent of grief wells up inside, causing him to feel depressed and to go off to be on his lonesome. This bracelet never leaves his person nor does he allow anyone to hold it, if he were to lose it he would go berserk until he found it.
- Appearance Picture:
- Personality: (How does your character act? Think of the different types of traits that make your character who they are and write 1-2 paragraph's at least in this section for it.)
[Click here for information about Xeno Hollow]
- Hollow type: Adjuchas
- Hollow Power: (Most Hollow's have some kind of nifty powers. State the list of powers your Hollow has.)
- Weapons: Claws, tails, fangs...the usual.
The sound was repetitive, everyday, day in and day out, that rusted old pipe in that damp, dark corner. The sound reverberating throughout the expanse yet dull and grayed room, its entirety being comprised of hard, cold cement. In mere moments, light gradually cast itself into the dreary room from the one and only window visible. It's rather large square shape, the norm, held black bars to prevent the escape of any of it's occupants. The bars, upon closer examination, wore many abrasions and dents from failed attempts. As the light crawled further into this apparent prison chamber, a number of beds came into view, numbering a little over a dozen. Within the dirty and hole filled sheets, the occupants stirred, some twisting and turning to avoid the sunlight, while others accepted that the day had begun, that their time of bliss and peace was over. They were all sort of short in stature, their features childlike, indeed, these were all children. The attire worn by each was unique to one child, however, the overall quality was the same; tattered, torn, and filthy. They looked no older than fourteen on average, every last one of them. As the last of the children woke and got out of bed, they moved to form a long line in front of a steel door, standing perfectly still and waiting. The door had no knob or handle for the children to turn to allow themselves to exit with. Just like the barred window, the door was littered with fist sized dents and edges bent where one might slide a card to unlock the door. At one side, on the gray wall were holes where the hinges would go, but were removed long ago when an ordinary door was replaced with this smooth, unfeeling, and definite piece of commercial iron.
The door was unlocked and opened revealing a middle aged man in a white suit trimmed in gold, his body was fairly muscular, as you could tell from how the suit fitted him, showing the size of his arms. His suit was expensive, made from the finest materials money could buy, going even further by having diamonds as cufflinks and his shoes, dark brown alligator skin. On his face, was an irritating smirk with a small pointed nose, below two crimsoned snake like eyes, one which was hidden behind a bang of red hair. Looking past all that, nothing but pure arrogance as he gazed down at all the dirty little runts. This was the warden, and he despised these orphans though he was only able to afford his suit and other pleasantries from the plentiful donations of the heartbroken people, who would give him funds to increase the orphans quality of living.
"All right boys and girls, time to go to work!"
He'd exclaim while he outstretched his right arm to point down the hall to an opening to the outside. The first kid in line kept his head down the entire time, not wanting to look at any part of the man for fear of the repercussions. Hearing the order in it's usual disrespecting tone, he reluctantly took a step forward then turned on his heel to head down the hall, leading the others. The warden watched with a smug look on his face as the last orphan made her way down the hall, and then followed a foot behind them. The hall was somewhat like the room; drab, monotone, and old. The only difference, being that more windows were placed here, albeit at a height none of them could reach on their own. Even if they could, it was barred as well. The light phased through each window as they walked, stepping from the shadows into the light then back into the shadows numerous times before reaching the halls end.
The sun, radiant, high in a sky blue firmament speckled with white dashes, the day was normal. Trees, full of young leaves in the distance, which swayed in the morning's breeze, carrying the scent of pollen. This forest surrounded the area, save for an old dirt road that seemed endless as it streamed through the mass of oak. The deep tracks along each side made from the tread of tires from vehicles that came through, to drop off more orphans or to adopt one. In the center of the forest was the orphanage; it's cement walls painted white and outlined in blue. The orphans, coming out of that prison of a home, were each given a pickax and a water canteen by a tall, slender man to the right of the door. His wardrobe consisted of a brown leather jacket over a, dirt covered, T-shirt which was tucked into a pair of dusty jeans and on his feet were black boots, also smeared with either dried mud or some other muck. But what would catch the eyes of the children was the whip coiled on his left hip, an instrument of punishment that they've seen enough of, in fact if he were to merely gripped it many would flinch on instinct. There was another like him, now leading the line of orphans down a trail in the forest, opposite direction from the dirt road. This trail led to a cave where the orphans were forced to mine for as long as they stayed in the orphanage. The amount of success was varying, sometimes a small nugget or nothing at all. The warden walked out of the building as the last child received their gear, he looked up at the sun then at an odd iron plate in the ground not too far on his right.
"Well, how long has he been in there?" he inquired.
"Counting today, that'd be a whole week Warden, sir." Quickly, straightening his stand as he spoke.A satisfying grin made its way across the man's face.
"Oh, really now. Lets see if our little silver boy has had a change of tune, shall we."
Both casually walked over to the iron plate, the guard picking up a long steel bar on his way, to stand just above it. It was rusted as well and had a hole in it for some insertion. The guard placed the bar into the hole and began to push downward on the part he held, causing the iron plate to be lifted revealing that it was much thicker and heavier than it appeared.
~Enter the Fox~
Colmillo was abandoned, at such a young age, he doesn't even recollect anything of his parents. Brought here by some stranger, who believed they were doing the right thing. Truly, not knowing what actually goes on at this prison. Once he got to the age at which he could work they sent him to work in the mine, like a slave. No matter what type of weather; rain, sleet, or snow, like the others, he worked. If he didn't, the whip would make him. The warden became a bit fond of him, because Colmillo of all the orphans had found the most gold pieces. Granting him the nickname, silver-boy due to his hair color and because the warden believed silver to be lucky, yet he preferred gold and its value. One day he had decided it was enough, he was fed up with working for them. As expected he was whipped numerous times for disobeying, leaving his back riddled with scars and lashes, yet still he resisted. Forcing the guards and Warden to think of a new punishment because using the whip had become futile, so the Hole was dug. A nine foot deep and three feet wide hole was dug and sealed with an iron plate, for him to serve solitude time in for a day or more, depending on his actions, without food or water. He was now twelve going on thirteen in a few months. This time he had refused to work once again by spitting in the guards face, and was thrown in the hole for a total of seven days. The hole wasn't really that bad to him, he preferred it to the whip but it became difficult when the downpours began and the rain water filled the hole up to his neck, before the soil could soak it up. At those times he would acquire a bad cold or worse, pneumonia. It was dark and the only senses he could count on were sound and touch, since all he could smell was the earth that confined him. Light illuminated the hole, he looked up as the lid was removed by the guard and the warden standing beside him.
Colmillo; hair grown fully to its max length and wildly unkempt, so much so that his eyes down to his nose was concealed. His attire, a grey shirt with a few holes in the front and a pair of ragged black shorts. Hearing what the warden called him, brought his hands into fists and his teeth to grind. He hated being called that. Not having much energy still he began to speak.
"...Not...my..name..." he struggled with his words as they came out dryly.
"Excuse me, I can't seem to hear you? Speak up." He said jokingly, as he applied his hand to his ear in some foolish attempt to increase his hearing. Oh, how Colmillo wanted to kill this man, if only he had the strength.
"...Thats not my name!" he yelled coarsely, and without any moisture in his vocal cords caused him to cough soon after.
"So you still got some energy in ya. Thats good, then ya can just forget about this water in my hand and get to work! You little dipsh-" The guard, apparently still pissed from being spit on, snapped on. He was quickly slapped on the back of his head by the warden.
"Idiot. How is my lucky silver going to work without water. Give him two canteens, a pickaxe and send him to the mine." Speaking as he walked off towards a rather nice looking car that had pulled up moments ago.
"Y-yes sir!" he said quickly as he rubbed his head.
~ Enter The Flower ~
While the guard got Colmillo out of the hole, the Warden spoke with a blonde woman who had two girls at her side. The Warden would point to the oldest girl about the age of twelve, who had flowing pink hair, dazzling red eyes, dressed in a bright yellow sun dress, and wore a silver bracelet on each of her wrists. The blonde woman would lightly push the girl over to him and open the car door to put the younger girl inside. They weren't sisters or anything, not friends, just two kids who were now orphans. The Warden placed his hands on her shoulders as he walked her over to the guard and Colmillo, as he was hurriedly gulping down the water from his second canteen.
"Forget about sending silver-boy to the mine today. We have a new employee who needs to learn how things are done here. So, Colmillo show miss Lucia around for today, and if she doesn't know everything by tomorrow...well you know what will happen."
With that, the Warden would take his leave followed by the guard as he spit in the dirt, the irritation clear in his face.Colmillo would move his wild hair out of his face so that he could see who this Lucia girl was. Upon sight of her his brows would rise in awe as his heart skipped a beat. Their eyes locked, his icy blue in her blazing red, both blushed then instantly diverted their sights. From that moment on a bond was forged between the two, a fox and a flower.
~Six months later~
After much time spent together, Colmillo and Lucia had developed feelings for each other, him caring deeply for her and her for him. As time went by they seemed to enjoy their time with the other, despite living in a work camp disguised as an orphanage. They had learned all there was to know about the other, their quirks, strengths, fears, and favorite foods. Lucia and Colmillo equally shared their love for sweets leading Colmillo to often steal some, from a gluttonous guard who always carried at least two bags full of them on his person, and share the stolen goods with her. During the day, they couldn't really enjoy each other's company because of the constant work they were forced to do. Resting for too long would incite the whip, and if either would be whipped the other wouldn't waste a single moment to stop or take the lashing themselves. So the only true time they spent together was at night.The crescent moon high in a dark bluish-violet night sky, casting it's silvery night glow upon the trees, ground, and the orphanage. The stars, in their multitude, complementing the natural satellite with their sheer quantity rather than with their dwindled incandescence, due to the distance from the world. The frigid night breeze, shuffling through the branches of the trees compelling them to sway gently and generate a slight rustle from any stubborn leaves that still stuck to their branches, temporarily disturbing the silence which always came and flooded the night within mystery and suspense. Everyone was sound asleep within the orphanage, save for two. The moonlight crept into the cold, hard cement room through it's only barred window. Peering on to those who slept peacefully yet clung to their old and worn sheets for warmth on this cold night.
Beneath that window, two figures sat close together bound by a single sheet, silver and pink hair illuminated by the glow of moonlight. There Colmillo and Lucia sat with their backs to the wall, wrapped in the same tattered sheet as the others. All the beds were taken, first come first served, leaving them to spend the night on the floor like a few others. But thanks to their combined body heat they were okay, still cold but okay. Lucia laid her head onto Colmillo's shoulder as he leaned his to lay gently on her head. His hair was no longer wild or as long as it used to be due to Lucia cutting it so that it wouldn't hinder his sight any longer. Colmillo was truly glad he had met Lucia, she had given him something that he never had till now, love. Lucia would move to raise her head and look into Colmillo's iced eyes, which were now much more warming than cold."I almost forgot something, I have a present for you." She whispered, smiling as she lowered the blanket from her shoulders to rest on the lap of her dress, which had lost it's vibrant color and dulled so much from it's past quality when she first arrived here.
"Now give me your hand." continuing to whisper while she took off one of her silver bracelets, grabbed his hand, and fastened the silver jewelry onto his wrist. "There, well, do you like it?"
Colmillo was surprised and felt a bit guilty because he didn't have anything to give her in return. He was very happy still, and moved his hand into the moonlight to examine the gift better. On the top was the symbol of a flower in bloom.
"This is the best gift...I've ever been given. Thank you Lucia." he whispered smilingly. To be correct this was the first and only gift he has ever been given, on account of how he was an orphan and how young he was when brought here.
"I'm glad, but there's more. Turn it over, see." she gently grabbed his wrist and then turned the underside of the bracelet up, revealing words that were etched into it. Bringing his face closer in order to better read the words, "...Always together, Colmillo and Lucia..." merely speaking those words caused his spirit to flutter in sheer bliss. Turning to look into the gleaming rubies that were her eyes becoming lost within them, a type of lost to which he wished to remain forever completely complacent in this time, with her, together. Their shadows cast from the moon's luminescence, began to move slowly closer and closer until they were one.
~ Heartache ~
Now came the freezing winter, leaving many of the orphans with only colds and fevers, if they were lucky. However, Lucia was not so fortunate for she had contracted a severe flu virus leaving her to be put on bed rest and Colmillo to be at her side constantly worrying, wishing for her to get well again. There on the bed she lay, her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling with each contraction and expansion of her lungs, underneath the white blanket. Her hand with it's bracelet escaped the white sheet as it gripped another with the same bracelet, Colmillo's. His eyes no longer attributed to ice as they had melted into water that had streamed down his cheeks many, many times. Standing beside her bed, he had stayed by her side for days now, not moving from that very spot. There was a chair behind him for sitting but he preferred to stand. Thoughts of what the nurse said flowing through his mind,
"Theres nothing more that I can do. All I can say is if she pulls through, then good but if she doesn't, then……i'm sorry."
The tears began to flow once more at the thought, the thought of her not…… His hand was gripped tighter by her own, glancing up he'd see her eyes barely open and her gentle smile.
"…Don't worry... I'm going to be just fine, wait and see." Her voice was low and soft in tone.
Forcing a smile on his face to ensure her, he nodded his head in agreement. "Yeah…i know you will. Now just continue to rest, okay." he said as he used his other hand to move a strand of her rose pink hair out of her face and bringing it to cup the side of her cheek. To his touch, her body was so...cold. As if she were now frozen.
That night Colmillo accidently fell asleep in the chair, his hand still grasping Lucia's.
When morning came, so did heartache as Lucia had passed on, unable to beat the virus that plagued her. And with her, a piece of Colmillo went as well, he was broken. His eyes became emotionless, for days on he wouldn't speak nor would he work causing him to be whipped again and again, the pain didn't phase him none because he knew no amount of physical pain could dissolve this he was now lost in. The moment he knew she was gone, he had fell deep into a torrential abyss of sorrow...grief...and anguish. No longer able to see her beautiful red eyes...her sweet smile...and never ever to hear her angelic voice again tore at his very being. Colmillo believed he was no longer really alive, that he had just awoken to life when he met Lucia and then died along with her to enjoy the afterlife together. That he was only having a bad dream at the moment until it ended and to which he would awaken to see her gentle form beside him, to embrace her. Oh, how he wished this were only a horrible nightmare.His mind was continuously occupied with thoughts of her, his daydreams as he stayed in the hole, and his regular dreams. He couldn't take it anymore, this life...in this world...devoid of her existence. So, he forced himself to be put into the hole multiple times to starve himself and wait for death's unmerciful grasp, which it did taking Colmillo from his body turning him into a spirit with a chain of fate upon his chest. After realizing he was now dead and a spirit, Colmillo started to look for Lucia in hopes that she was somewhere in the world in the same form as him. His hopes were high as he believed he'd find her and they would be together once again, his search began. Days turned to weeks...then months...and years, he looked for her while little by little his hope of finding that which gave his life meaning diminished. Colmillo began to fall once again into despair, resulting in his chain of fate to deteriorate until his time finally came.
Colmillo only watched. That chain had begun to erode in a cyan hue, as link by link had slowly disintegrated into oblivion. His eyes warm with tears yet his gaze frozen on it. This was a burning sensation, that with every link that had been burned away the pain grew by ten times. The icy light from that which was his destruction reflected in his unwavering cyan orbs. That pain...it hurt, but....was petty compared to the torment his heart had been through. Looking for something that had once existed but may never do so ever...ever again. Numb. Thats what he was now. So numb...The majority of his chain had evaporated, while his body in it's entirety took on that frigid glow. Soon after was light. A mass of light that enveloped him. Despite that, his eyes never let loose their grasp of what they held...Colmillo never took his eyes off the bracelet Lucia had given him. That being the last thing he saw before he, himself, was erased from this world.
As if everything were nothing more but a mere dream.
Sand. In every direction. There was white sand. The air, chilling, there was no type of warmth at all. Above, a grand crescent in the midst of a sea of darkness. Within this vast colorless desert, camouflaged in the whiteness, lay a small yet strange silvery white fox. Strange because normally foxes only possessed one tail while this one possessed nine. The fox stirred as it began to rise from it's lax position to stand on all it's paws.
"Where am I?"
The fox spoke as it looked around and rose it's left paw to scratch it's head, which let loose a small clink sound. Gazing at it's paw the fox saw a silver bracelet with a flower on it. Inspecting the trinket further, he found an engraving on the underside of it, "Always together...Colmillo...and...Lucia." After saying that which was engraved, a tear fell from the fox's eye into the white sand.
The fox looked at the little smudge of darkened sand, as if waiting for a reply. His mind tried to wrap itself around the meaning behind it. But to no avail. It urked him that he didn't have a single clue as to why it had occurred, or, even why it bothered him. It must have just been because he had just awoke. Yes, thats understandable. Casting the thoughts on the tear to the back of his mind, the fox looked out into the far reaching and deserted white landscape. It was completely unknown to him. Yet. With one step, followed by another, and then another, the fox walked almost casually into this new world of darkness.
As he gained experience in the world, that he found to be known as Hueco Mundo, he followed his instincts in eating male souls to satisfy the void within him until they couldn't any longer. His preference were males because the act of hurting a female was impossible for him. Not that he couldn't, but more so that he did not want to. However. Anything else, he had no second thoughts...he was hungry and the food was filling. It was a dull taste but he didn't complain. He just hunted. The more he ate the bigger he became. So the hunting of other and bigger hollow was inevitable, as with his size, his hunger grew as well. The killing and eating of other hollows was somewhat amusing to the fox. The look of terror in their eyes reflected his own visage as he tore into their flesh. His muzzle stained in crimson. His eyes numb and cold. Many hunts later, the consumption of other hollow wasn't as it once was. This cycle of hunting and feeding had become like everything else to him...nothing.
Soon he found a massive inter-devouring of his kind resulting in his evolution into a Gillian, a massive hollow made of lesser ones fighting for control. While he was in this form, it was just this swirling clamor of discordance. It was so loud. The yelling. The arguing. The whining. So noisy. It was an annoyance. The fox simply tried to slumber in the midst of it all. He hadn't any idea as to what had happened, and for the most part didn't really care. It was unimportant. Before he knew it. "W-what is this!?" The fox felt his mind and soul slip away. Like his very self was being pushed down deep into some container and then to be locked away forever. Like a wild animal, the fox fought back to reject this. The submersion of his soul was something he wouldn't allow. Soon he felt it. An unwanted, eerie feeling. The other souls had began to assimilate into another, as did his own. It was like he was drowning. The murky waters of that place rose to consume him whole. There in its' depths he felt nothing. The usual but, it was akin to that of a coma. He was just existing...but as a part of something else. "Huh?" That is, till a voice rang out to him. The voice was feminine and warming in tone. Familiar yet unknown. Eyes slowly opened as he unconsciously moved towards it. Getting closer and closer. Its warmth increasing by the second. He hadn't felt this way before. Then there was nothing but light once again. Though only for a small second as it faded to reveal the same dull sands he knew. This time was different somehow. His muscles felt stronger, his legs felt like they could run faster, but above it all he hungrier. In an instant, he let loose a roar that resounded throughout the sands. The voice which saved him was dismissed to the back of his mind. Being overwhelmed by his now stronger appetite.
The now larger fox had resumed his hunt. Learning that he was now what they called an adjuchas along the way. Nothing much had changed besides his size, as far as he could notice anyway. It was when he slept that he began to have those dreams. Dreams where he was in a field of flowers under a clear, sunny sky. And there in the distance would stand, a figure waving. He would always run toward that person. As he ran, his chest would tighten in incomprehensible pain that would halt his steps. Despite the pain, he would always continue for some reason. But it would always end the same time and time again. He would reach the figure. From the clothing he knew the person was a girl. But always...always when he tried to looked at her face. There would be light. And then he would awaken again to the sands, along with a feeling of sadness that he couldn't understand. After a while, Colmillo started to ignore the dreams, he had become uncaring for them and frustrated. Even though he felt somewhat happy in them, when he awoke that same happiness formed itself into despair. Constantly going between happiness and despair for a time he would declare to be truly some decades, had driven him mentally to the brink. He was completely and utterly sick of it. Not knowing what it was or why he had it. Causing him to become filled with anger and resentment towards his emotions. Then wildly unleashing that rage onto every and anything that came within his path. Massacring hundreds upon hundreds of petty hollows and some menos. For days, he walked the endless sands of Hueco Mundo as a beast drenched in crimson. The red life liquid covered every part of his body, and dried his fur down to his body. Until ultimately, the fox had found himself numb to it. He didn't feel anger anymore nor did he have any of those dreams. He was empty. Gradually he began to view all with little care at all. Then sought out entertainment as he grew bored more and more in life. He did this by hunting other adjuchas and menos level hollow to fight and gain something or someone to catch his interest. However, none met his expectations.
His interest in Hueco Mundo dwindled by the second. There was nothing that interested him. The fox had nothing really to do in this world but merely eat and exist. Meaningless. But the human world. That place piqued his interest some. He had heard of many things that went on there. His plans were now decided, pointing him in that very direction. With that decision the fox tore open space and transversed the pathway in between until he found himself under a different night sky. There was the moon, but beneath it lay lights. Many, many lights. "Hmph..." The fox gazed coldly upon the city under him.
- Durability: Master/Advanced/Adept/Beginner
- General Speed: Master/Advanced/Adept/Beginner
- Strength: Master/Advanced/Adept/Beginner
- Weapon Skill: Master/Advanced/Adept/Beginner
- Acid Skill: Master/Advanced/Adept/Beginner
- Garganta : Master/Advanced/Adept/Beginner
- Cero/Bala: Master/Advanced/Adept/Beginner
- Regeneration: Master/Advanced/Adept/Beginner
- Roleplay Sample:
Far within the tintless sands of Hueco Mundo, known as the White Desert, the winds blew across the dunes. Scattering the white grains throughout the infinitely darkened sky causing an almost snow-like effect, as it descended back onto the desert, glittering in the moonlight. Along with the sands came a smell, this smell lingered throughout the air giving it a taste that was a tad reminiscent of iron. To some this smell would be rancid or nauseating, but here in this world of cannibals, most would relish in this scent and follow it. Which is exactly what occurred. The odor arose from a seemingly flat plain within the desert with a few trees in the vicinity, holding nothing amongst their branches and silvery white in hue as the usual in Hueco Mundo.
Between two of these ragged and brittle trees lied a beastly figure, brownish green skin covered it's body as well as a white mask oval in it's shape, adorned on the beast's face. The beast was about four times that of a human and slightly resembled one too. The hollow held four large gashes across it's back with it's entire shoulder area and arm appeared to had been ripped off. Despite these injuries, the hollow still breathed but heavily and emitted a wheezing noise as it did. The sands around the hollows wounds were no longer colorless, having been dyed in the color of crimson. This what quite an oddity. The most reasonable event that took place was that of nature, but why was it left here? Was it just a sick game to incite despair or torture by letting it bleed to death? Knowing that other weaker hollows would pick up the scent and begin to feast on the now defenseless hollow. As they soon began to come out of hiding to enjoy a meal on a silver platter. A few in number, around six, in their varying sizes and forms yet none bigger than the one that was to be feasted on. The weak hollows deciding to eat the crippled before eating each other. Such the simple mind of these weak hollows completely falling prey to their instincts alone, without allowing their minds any input on this decision.
A hollow similar in appearance to a vulture, but twice the size, took on the first bite. It's large beak lined with razor sharp teeth that tore into the flesh; ripping it, swallowing the meat whole, then repeating the process voraciously. In a heartbeat, if they had one, the other five rushed to do the same. Greedily devouring away, slinging flesh and blood in differing directions as they salivated in the meal. One of a more cunning nature would have pondered the situation or at least kept an eye out for anything suspicious, but no, they had all left their guard down. Even if they hadn't, it would not have mattered. They were all dead once they stepped foot or claw in these plains.
The sound of their ravenous eating overruled the sounds around them. The sand was starting to move not to far from them. Apparently, falling or sliding off of some mass that was indistinguishable from the sand itself due to no difference in the color. He had been waiting. His nine tails soon rose, slowly, from the sand that covered them, beginning to sway and whip about. Next, his main body followed suit, giving more detail to his appearance; the silvery-white fur moreover white than silver, the claws and fangs, the frigid cyan hued eyes, and the large ears. His body was that of a large fox, twelve feet in height while being nineteen feet long counting his seven foot long tails. Completely white fur, allowed him to easily camouflage.
The grand fox now stood on his fore and hind legs behind the group of unsuspecting hollow, his fangs showing menacingly as he let loose an aggressive growl to alert his prey. Why would he do such a thing? To see the look of despair upon their faces...or masks. That immediate fall from hope into a pit of fear and despondency. The only one that seemed to catch the sound above the others was the vulture, diverting his attention from the feast to the terror behind him. The bird's eyes grew in fear and body shook in trepidation. In an instant, a static sound, before any cry could be heard; blood splattered...bones cracked...despair was given. The bodies of the hollows now ripped, and shredded were scattered in the area. Reaped of most of their meat leaving their bones to finally see beyond the wall of flesh that covered them. The fox's bright fur streaked with the blood of his prey along his legs, tails, and face. He currently lay leisurely, with his paw upon the vulture hollow, sinking his sharp fangs into the savory flesh of the bird. Bloodying his maw continuously, causing his blood stained fur to drip the red substance as his tails were like tendrils thrashing around effortlessly, kicking up sand far into the blackened night sky. The fox had been running this same routine for some time now, being to lazy to search and hunt for his prey. He had already consumed a couple thousand hollows from this method of crippling one hollow and leaving it to draw others. Then replacing the crippled hollow with a fresher one when it had fulfilled it's purpose of drawing in prey.
As he finished his meal, the fox began to try and rest by curling up with his tails curved to cover his face. However, his attempt to sleep had been disturbed as his left ear started to twitch in a specific direction, picking up a sound. Raising his head, he began to take sniffs of the air which confirmed the presence of another in the vicinity.