Monstergrowl moves like a shadow spilled from some jagged crack in the earth—slow, deliberate, and wholly silent. His heavy frame is deceptively quiet as he weaves between brambles and twisted roots, each step placed with mechanical precision. The forest around him hums with the quiet heat of mid-morning, the sun filtered through thinning leaves, dappling the forest floor in mottled light. Somewhere up ahead, a bird chirps. Careless. Loud. He sees it now, perched low on a crooked branch—its small body puffed with self-importance, feathers flicking as it preens. A foolish thing, unaware of the danger creeping nearer with every breath. Monstergrowl lowers himself into a crouch, scarred shoulders tensing like a spring wound too tight. His claws press into the loam. Patience. It's all patience. The hunt is not a rush of paws or the snap of teeth—it is waiting, watching, becoming the silence until the silence becomes unbearable.
His breath is shallow. Not from exertion, but from the sheer control he exerts over himself. A twitch in his tail. A blink. The bird hops. Monstergrowl does not move. In this moment, there is no camp. No names. No expectations. Only this bird and the space between them. The forest stills, as if holding its breath alongside him. Then—a flutter. The bird shifts its weight. Monstergrowl moves.
He explodes forward, a flash of dark fur and barely-contained fury. The bird tries to launch into the air but it's too late—his paw slams down, claws digging into fragile wing. The bird screams, once. He silences it with a swift bite, teeth closing around its throat with a practiced efficiency. The forest accepts the violence with quiet indifference. He stands there for a moment, shoulders rising and falling. The copper tang of blood lingers on his tongue. It is not pride he feels. Not satisfaction. Just... stillness. A kind of grounded certainty in the act, something simple and real in a world too often layered with ghosts and glances. Monstergrowl lifts his head, gaze flicking to the trees above, where the rest of the flock has already vanished.