⊰ The other critter, as it had presumed to have been, moved not even an inch as the other collided with it. Shimmering optics churning with recognition as it watched the fool fumble about for the balance and coordination it sorely lacked.
Pupils began to shrink, narrowing and slivering, ears flattened and body began to tremble. This, this was one of those things they had made Silvally to destroy.
It lurched forward, one paw securing an antenna to the soil and the other crashing into the thin chest plates of the creature, forcing it down and pinned. Maw parted to expose broad teeth, wisps of tainted smoke easing out of its beak. The paw against its chest pushing it so far into the dirt that the soil began to part from the force. ⊱
“You are a most unwelcome presence… Give me one sound reason as to why I should not shear you apart and suck your marrow dry!”
⊰ A voice once so calm and solemn, now tinged with volatile intent. It would follow through with these promises regardless of what the UB said. But everyone was so keen on last words these days— ⊱
Bending its chest plates, the other creature stomping on it with a force possibly twice its total weight -- that caused acute sensations that might have been comparable to bending nails backwards. There followed a clearly inhuman, pitiful, pained screech, and this Pheromosa's body was buckling under the pressure. It's struggling to breathe, whatever similar organ to lungs it had grasping for the air it needed, and a thin, metallic golden fluid slowly began to leak from where the foot of the creature continued its crushing force.
Pheromosa's own eyes knew by now how to tell what constitutes 'threatening' on this world. This was a painfully obvious example of a very dangerous threat to its existence. Its irises were easier to see from the angle it stared at the other creature, shaking slightly like the rest of its body, petrified in fear.
It knew, every time it met an end this way, that its survival instinct caused this reaction. But its knowledge in that regard was what soothed a small part of the fear. That it would potentially survive once again. To be beaten down within a small measure of its life... and to ultimately survive--
This would not be the first time, nor would it be the last, in such unforgiving worlds.
"I-- " it began to speak, a voice that resonated pleasantly yet distinctly very unnatural in tone, weakly and softly, "-- do not wish to return."
Moisture in its eyes, a clearer color, glistened with the light, forming quickly and slipping down past the faded scar just under its left eye. It still stared, the gaze soon becoming pleading, despairing, rather than fearful. It seemed as though it might faint at any moment.
“I wish... to stay here. With... humans... ”
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