Midnight Snack (open)

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A slight rustle on the wind and the beast was gone. It had spent the last three days carving a swath of death through the white sands of Hueco Mundo, an unstoppable force of hunger and anger. For a beast to sit at the top of the hill, king of the lands, devouring a lions share when and where it wanted, there was nothing sweeter. It had stood still on the wrong dune, at the wrong time, for just a second too long, then with a flash of claws and a descending darkness. Nothing.

Sliver thought of itself as a simple creature with simple needs and simple solutions. He was bored? Kill something. He was happy? Kill something. He was sad? Kil-you get the point. Unless he was hungry, then he killed something and ate it. Of course, being at the feet of gods in the evolutionary chain he usually ate what he killed. The bestial nature of his kind was thus, always hungry, always angry, it worked, he got a lot done and felt like one productive Adjuchas. Of course, unlike many of his kind he never worked well in a team, a large minority of the animals lurching across the sands tended to form packs, but that was not him. The strength of the pack is the wolf, and the strength of the wolf is the pack they said. But you know what is stronger than a wolf? The thing that eats them. Sliver was the wolves predator, the bird of prey that toppled packed with immunity in the air, striking from the darkness and disappearing into darkness. The lifeless mass in his claws could attest to that if it still had a face.

Hueco Mundo was a perfect environment for one such as Sliver, dark skies, white sands. The cloud of purest black that surrounded him gave him the element of surprise nine times out of ten, a percentage he begrudgingly settled with. He arced now through the air, the Hollow he had clutched in his claws swaying in the wind and his wings gently keeping him afloat. Not that he needed to travel so blasé, time was of the essence when keeping yourself out of the food chain in hell. But in the open air it was just him, him and food that came easily, he was content, had grown complacent, lazy. But heck, it had worked for the last millennium so why fix what ain't broken.

Sliver tore a chunk out of his prey, his inexhaustible hunger kicking up again and soon the hollow had all gone, the energy flowing into him. It was a small addition to his power, he had feasted on the slowest prey in the sands since the sands were rocks. His power was at a steady and constant level, not too high that he garnered unwanted attention or drew the lesser seen Vasto Lorde attention and not too low that he regressed back into the gestalt maelstrom of insanity that were the Menos Grande. Creatures like his snack just now were perfect for the likes of he, the arrogant and full, they get a taste of hollow, have their little red mist moment. Then he strikes. When they stand tall and roar, when they lie down and cry, when they are nice and full and ready for Sliver to swoop down and eat him and everything he recently ate at the same time. Speaking of which-

His stomach rumbled, his yellow eyes glinting, searching for the next course...

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