Abyssal Hound
Abyssal hounds are a permutation on the mythical blackfur, a large dog-like creature said to be a precursor to death to all who see or hear it. Blackfurs identify and pursue their kinvari prey with tireless focus and dedication until catching and killing or devouring their target. Some stories describe blackfurs as silent, unbelievably swift hunters, while others are said to be more hound-like and bay constantly during the chase. One version of such a story describes the wolfish howling of a hunting blackfur to grow quieter the nearer it comes to its target before killing it in perfect silence.
Abyssal hounds themselves are thought to be only legend or folklore, no more real in the flesh than any other version of blackfur. Depicted as long-legged, curly-furred hounds with dripping fur, these hounds are a rare addition to the bestiaries for folktales. There are versions of blackfur mythology for nearly every known region and realm, though most of them stem from the spirit demesne. The few references to Abyssal hounds make no attempt to explain how a "living" creature with a recognizable shape could come from the formless, infinite Abyss.
Beknownst to almost none, three very real Abyssal hounds have been well-studied and documented for the past five years, as they bonded with three very different voy'Aeldvari shortly after the catastrophic ritual that created the new race of Abyssal elves. Personal observation of these Abyssal puppies has allowed new insight into such a rare "mythological" beast. An informal conversation between two of the kinvari who bonded with the puppies discusses the theories behind the hounds' unusual responsiveness to the kinvari around them: G. Lyrishan: It’s not just intelligence. It’s emotional intelligence. [The hounds] aren’t reacting to our words, or even the meanings of the words. They’re catching on to the emotional projections behind them. K. Nightbell: I suppose that would explain why they imprinted on individuals in the first place, though not why they picked us. ... It’s not just us, though. They can pick up on emotions from anyone. G. Lyrishan: Abyssal hounds are the ... tireless blackfurs from the folk tales. There’s claims that they can read the mind of their prey--meaning people. But what if that just refers to them being able to sense the emotions of whatever they’re chasing and ... predict what they’ll do next? K. Nightbell: Still doesn’t explain the ... noise [my hound] made when I was attacked. That kind of thing is usually associated with banshees ... G. Lyrishan: They chase, they hunt, they kill. Unstoppable. Can’t ditch ‘em, can’t outpace ‘em, can’t hide. Wouldn’t surprise me if that scream was part of the whole deal, to scare the skin off their prey, or to freeze it in place, or what have you. ... makes sense, doesn’t it?
Beknownst to almost none, three very real Abyssal hounds have been well-studied and documented for the past five years, as they bonded with three very different voy'Aeldvari shortly after the catastrophic ritual that created the new race of Abyssal elves. Personal observation of these Abyssal puppies has allowed new insight into such a rare "mythological" beast. An informal conversation between two of the kinvari who bonded with the puppies discusses the theories behind the hounds' unusual responsiveness to the kinvari around them: G. Lyrishan: It’s not just intelligence. It’s emotional intelligence. [The hounds] aren’t reacting to our words, or even the meanings of the words. They’re catching on to the emotional projections behind them. K. Nightbell: I suppose that would explain why they imprinted on individuals in the first place, though not why they picked us. ... It’s not just us, though. They can pick up on emotions from anyone. G. Lyrishan: Abyssal hounds are the ... tireless blackfurs from the folk tales. There’s claims that they can read the mind of their prey--meaning people. But what if that just refers to them being able to sense the emotions of whatever they’re chasing and ... predict what they’ll do next? K. Nightbell: Still doesn’t explain the ... noise [my hound] made when I was attacked. That kind of thing is usually associated with banshees ... G. Lyrishan: They chase, they hunt, they kill. Unstoppable. Can’t ditch ‘em, can’t outpace ‘em, can’t hide. Wouldn’t surprise me if that scream was part of the whole deal, to scare the skin off their prey, or to freeze it in place, or what have you. ... makes sense, doesn’t it?
I like the idea here, and how you leave things a bit uncertain still!