Lindwurm
Overview
Lindwurms are ancient, serpentine predators dwelling deep within the darkest reaches of the Gloomwood, often found near tangled roots, ancient ruins, or hidden waterways. Embodying raw hunger and territorial aggression, they represent primal wilderness at its most savage—creatures ruled purely by instinct and insatiable appetite.
Physical Description
Massive and elongated, lindwurms combine draconic might with serpentine agility. Covered in thick scales resembling weathered stone or mottled bark, they camouflage perfectly amidst their forest environment. Powerful jaws filled with dagger-like teeth dominate their angular heads, and their eyes are a fierce, gleaming amber, ever-watchful for prey. Their powerful coils crush effortlessly, and their tails lash with immense strength, breaking trees and bones alike.
Behavior & Ecology
Lindwurms are solitary hunters, fiercely territorial and intolerant of intrusion. Their world is defined by the singular, relentless need to feed. Hunting is methodical yet savage—they wait patiently in ambush, blending into their surroundings until the perfect moment to strike arrives. Once prey is caught, they feed ravenously, devouring bones, fur, and flesh alike, leaving nothing behind.
HUNGRY.
The lindwurm lay coiled, hidden among moss-covered stones, its immense form blending seamlessly with the forest floor. Beneath cold scales, hunger burned fiercely—raw, demanding, an endless ache driving every thought, every twitch of muscle.
Scent of prey on the wind.
The beast's nostrils flared. Nearby, an elk moved cautiously, unaware, nibbling at tender shoots growing among the roots. Warm flesh. Blood. Bone. HUNGER grew sharper, irresistible.
It shifted slowly, muscles rippling beneath armored scales, coils tightening in anticipation. Eyes fixated, unblinking, locked onto the elk's broad flank, watching muscles flex beneath fur, heartbeat thrumming through warm veins.
Now.
Sudden violence erupted, coils exploding forward, teeth flashing. The elk turned too slowly—hooves scrambling in futile panic. Jaws closed with savage certainty, puncturing hide and muscle, hot blood flooding the lindwurm's mouth, washing away every sensation but hunger and triumph.
Prey struggled weakly beneath crushing coils, bones snapping with wet finality. The lindwurm’s heartbeat matched the pulse of its kill, an ancient rhythm of predator and prey.
Hunger quieted. For now.
But soon it would wake again, ever-present, ever-demanding. Until then—feed.
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