You Say "Psycho" Like It's A Bad Thing

The chances of a third being in this forest were a lot higher then one would presume. This was especially true when the third being was in fact the First being. Urufu was always the first one actually in the forest, for Urufu lived in the forest. It was his home, His base, His command center, if you will. The forest was the epicenter of murder and blood-letting. But only on certain occasions. A regular day would yield no more death then if Urufu had been a wild beast. Of course, death was a necessary action in order to procure sustenance for one's self. Nonetheless, that was only a few animals a day. Potentially, only one. Those were the good days. Those were the days that Urufu found a moose, bear, or similarly large animal that contained a dubious amount of blood for him to consume. The life of a sanguinirian was not for the faint of heart, that he was sure of. Being drenched in blood day in and day out, the crimson mercury seeping through cloth and skin. Each nail that capped his fingers were stained permanently, their length and thickness a testament to his animalistic prowess. The tips of each fang in his mouth equivalently red, dyed by death.

The two races of being that Urufu hated the most, insolent flesh bags and pompous death god, had decided that today would be a good day to take a casual stroll through his forest. Mistake. Peering down at the human through the canopy of leaves, Urufu kept his position at the top of a tree. Balancing on the triangular tip was a lot more difficult then one would imagine. His left leg was extended straight down, the tip of the coniferous tree's peak being held firmly between the large and adjacent toe on his foot. Thankfully, years of living outside of civilization without shoes had given his skin the strength that was necessary to perform such an action without hurting himself. Almost casually, his right leg was wrapped around his left, in order to promote his balance. Just centimeters above his ankles, a long white cloak ended, the hem of which was being tugged at by the wind. The celestial breath of the gods was urging Urufu to join it in a dance of mystical wonder and amazement. As usual, Urufu ignored it. Traveling up the cloak, which hid a pair of black cargo pants with ease, one would find his arms crossed securely over his chest sleeves pushed back slightly to reveal his hands delicately held over each bicep. The stained claws mentioned earlier were being held carefully as to not slice through his flesh like ribbon.

It was not his pale skin that reeked of living in the shadows that disturbed people. It was not the shoeless feet tipped with almost talon-like nails that sent fear shivering through people like electricity through a pool of water, similarly as it was not his hands nor their own claws that did the same. It was not the long-forgotten cloak draped over his athletic figure that advocated his separation from humanity that marked him as an outsider. Instead of these factors, Urufu possessed something else that did all of this and more. It was his eyes. Deep, dark, and broken, the purple ponds that centered his face held within them rich color, almost as if they were backed up by something else. This was technically true. He was born with blue eyes, as all children were, which remained a soft blue for a bit of his life. When he began drinking blood, however, his eyes slowly changed color, until they were this fathomless color now. After all, everyone knows that blue and red make purple. These eyes held within them a predator-like gleam. A light of domination and superiority shone from them, almost on a narcissistic level. These rich, predator eyes... were currently staring down.

A brief hole in the thick canopy of leaves allowed for light to shine through and accentuate the vegetation of the forest, similarly how it accentuated Urufu's pale skin, reflecting off of it harshly. Unlike a lot of rumors, Urufu was not a vampire. The sun did not hurt him in the least. And he did not sparkle. A hole in the forest roof allowed for two things. The first was already mentioned, but worth another, perhaps with greater detail. The sun was now capable of getting through a spot where light usually did not. As such, the vegetation would be able to grow at a much healthier rate. The second thing that this allowed for was greater vision. Urufu could now see much easier into the forest. He could now see a specific human wandering blindly through the woods, weaving in and out of trees with a desperation about him. An air of frustration seemed to exude from his flesh. He was obviously in a careless state. Picking up his ears, the young Azathoth could hear faint traces of a voice. He was actually whispering faint nothings to himself. How amusing. What truly amused Urufu, however, was not the human, but the shinigami whom stood near him. He was actually smoking. Someone had the gaul to smoke in Urufu's forest. Forcing a pristine rage down, he had a better idea.

Perhaps now would be the time to reveal himself. Who knows... this human certainly did not appear to be a threat, especially not if he had to content himself with a knife. Then again, what human WAS a threat? Deciding that now would be a good time, Urufu dropped. Perhaps Drop is the wrong word. What Urufu did was insane. Falling forward, he let go of the top of the swaying tree with his foot and allowed himself to fall skull first towards the earth. Thankfully, the coniferous tree acted as a buffer. Sliding along down it, Urufu slid his arms from their crossed position and extended his right towards the steadily approaching earth. Touching soft grass and mud, he crumpled in on himself before swinging forward. Gliding into a tight roll along the ground, Urufu finished his acrobatic maneuver in a standing position, staring straight at the human with the eyes of one whom had killed many and thought nothing of it. Soulless, broken eyes. This human was a small fish at the moment. He would not quite bother with him.. yet. Reaching inside of the hem of his cloak, Urufu drew a silver short sword, roughly two feet long, and held it perfectly taut in his right hand. Balancing the blade perfectly in his palm, he cracked his neck with a slow rotation.

"Human. Stop moving. Stand over there for a moment." Indicating towards the tree from which he was originally standing, a tilt of his neck pointed to the tree. "Shinigami... your gigai is amusing. Nonetheless, a plastic body still smells like plastic." As a hunter, Urufu had learned long ago to utilize all of his senses to their maximum potential. Pointing the tip of the blade towards the smoking faker, the threat was slightly diminished by the five meter or so distance between them. "Smoking can lead to forest fires, kid. I swear.. if you burn down my forest, I'm going to devour your fucking soul. I'll crack open that gigai and slurp up the worthless contents like a fucking oyster." Urufu was beyond pissed. Glaring, his eyes had hardened into flaming amethysts. In fact, he was almost to the point of growling. He would never forgive such an atrocious act, especially not when he was so hungry. It was hard to eat when there were intruders in your home. Then again, that was what the human was for, unless he proved useful to Urufu in some way. That was heavily doubted upon. "Put out that cigarette right now." A demand. There was no question involved with his statement.