[Alastor is going ham on a lot of the creatures conjured by the Story Eater, thoroughly enjoying the freedom to just let loose without having to worry about far-reaching consequences. (Though later on he might realize he maaaaaay have scared quite a few people.)]
[It's the sound of the hounds that cause him to freeze, the white ribbons of power of his slightly-altered form flaring brightly. His head snaps this way and that, smile tense as his ears twist and turn around the large branches of antlers (white ribbons of power threading through the wickedly-sharp black appendages).]
[The world shimmers a bit: the bayou on a moonless night, a well-worn path leading past the deer hunting grounds and to his home, the baying of starving dogs that had caught the scent of fresh flesh...]
C + D maybe? :3
[It's the sound of the hounds that cause him to freeze, the white ribbons of power of his slightly-altered form flaring brightly. His head snaps this way and that, smile tense as his ears twist and turn around the large branches of antlers (white ribbons of power threading through the wickedly-sharp black appendages).]
[The world shimmers a bit: the bayou on a moonless night, a well-worn path leading past the deer hunting grounds and to his home, the baying of starving dogs that had caught the scent of fresh flesh...]
It's not real, old boy. That was a long time ago.