[imgright]https://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/imag ... ncert4.png[/imgright] She was . . . It wasn't a good feeling, whatever it was. It rattled about in her head like a loose stone. She wasn't sure she could continue terrifying those who sought her. It already seemed to be losing a little of its affect and a large part of it was her, she knew. She loved being a swan. That faint tinge of pride at her beauty, at her manners, at the serenity of gliding about the water's surface or balancing on the wind's breath. It suited her, when she was at peace and around her children and felt kind. Too often, she ended up with dolts and cowards that turned her mood foul and she wished she could bite.

She'd seen other Legendaries with more than one form. Besides kin and pet. And she'd started to wonder what else she could be. It would have to have teeth. Long, sharp fangs that could tear into flesh. Or at least looked able to. She had nothing against feigning threat but it would be all the better if it was real. To find what that might be was harder than it sounded and she idled on the pond water as if the swamp would reveal the answer.

[imgleft]https://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/imag ... tsheen.png[/imgleft]Steadfast Sheen had gone to hunt that day, taking with him his eaglehound for assistance. He pretended to not notice that they had a tagalong with them lurking a few paces behind. It was a habit the buck could not get his feathered serpent to shake. But it often proved to their advantage so he let it slide.

Snapjaw thought itself very clever. Yes, very clever and sneaky. They were the true silent danger and graceful death that accompanied their master. Not the feathered hound. Glue Toes was just the bait and the distraction. Yes, that was exactly what the feathered serpent saw the eaglehound as, and it didn't matter at all that-

They could suddenly taste something in the air. Oh, yes, something to hunt! Good.

Show master who superior. Yes. Yes. Hunt!

Folding their wings against their body, Snapjaw slithered towards the body of water where the air tasted of prey.

It was the green that made her look up. In the fall, green was not as expected and she peered at the curious shade that looked like it should be a deep body of water. This was moving, though, in a way that water did not. In a way that made even her bird brain tense and seize. Danger; predator. She puffed out her feathers in annoyance and lowered her head to hiss at the offending green menace.

She was not prey and she would not be felled today. Not by some leafy twig. It was probably only a dumb snake or a stupid frog. Nothing to be fearful of, no matter how this creature's brain screamed instinctively. She couldn't turn it off, that instinct, and she was not ready to bet that she was invincible to teeth in this form. There must be some scent or jolt that forced animals to know when it was a Legendary they were dealing with, surely? Otherwise wouldn't they be less in numbers, always eaten by some dumb brute. Assuming, of course, that that would mean death for their kin body. Or would they simply explode the predator when they turned back?

Intrigued at the thoughts, she wondered if she should let the whelp have a taste . . .

Snapjaw smoothly glided along the marshy ground, making little to no sound. At least, no sound that would have been out of place. Every so often they would pause, tongue flicking in the air to track down their prey, ensuring that they were on the right track. Eventually, they spied a swan and while the feathered serpent was confident in their stealth, they went stock-still among the foliage, believing their scales matched the right evergreens.

If there was an instinct telling the feathered serpent that the swan before them was not what it seemed, Snapjaw was silencing it. Focusing instead on getting the right timing to strike. Right now, they were too far to attack. But unfortunately they were too close to make any sudden movements without risking discovery.

Ah this was always the tricky bit. Snapjaw just needed the right chance...

It wasn't a stupid thing, whatever it was, she knew when it waited rather than struck. She could have stayed where she was since in this spot, it clearly felt incapable of catching her, but where would the fun in that be? She wanted to know what it was, even if it was likely no more than a water snake, and when the disappointment struck from it's inconsequential existence, she could take some minor joy in scaring it half to death. If it wanted to eat her, well then turnabout was fair play.

She closed her beak against the instinctive hissing and straightened her neck while still focusing her gaze downward. She kicked one webbed foot down and pushed against the water tension, arcing her toes and closing the webbing so that she could move forward. It was a lot like an eaglehound paddling with its front paws, at least in movement, or a kin. Neither were really elegant swimmers but then no one was underneath the water's surface. It was all a little bit manic instinct instead of measured thought.

Closer now, she puffed up her feathers and stared.

Snapjaw did not hesitate once the opportunity presented itself. Muscled coiled sprang taut as the feathered serpent launched itself towards its prey, mouth open and ready to showcase just why its chosen granted it the title of Snapjaw. But it was at this point that the niggling sensation of DANGER reared its head again and overrode the hunting instinct. Its wings unfurled, causing it to stop short of the swan despite its momentum forward.

There was a moment, a brief fleeting heartbeat, where something like awe settled over her. It was not a disappointment, this creature, nor was it a water snake. She eyed it, curious, and inspired before she pushed herself a little closer and leaned forward. It was as her neck extended that the glowing eyes flashed and it was then a mare before the feathered serpent.

"You're much smarter than I thought you would be," she commended the creature with a grin. The mare was clearly unafraid as she inspected the creature's teeth, then its wings, all while lying down half in the mud swirled water. The feathers of her tail rustled up the sand and dirt from the bed of the pond and obscured her from predators. At least the ones under water because the serpent could see her. But then, now, it knew she was not prey.

"You'll have to find another swam to eat," she teased, "but you're not the disappointment I thought you would be. In fact, I think you might be just what I was looking for."

Another creature might have shrank back at the pleased, toothy, grin that spread on the mare's mouth. She imagined this one knew better, though, and that it would know she and it were more alike than different.

Snapjaw didn't understand the concept of condescending or patronizing. There were very few reasons for it to learn duplicity or diplomacy. It did, however, understand when one was up against something far beyond their reach. It also, unfortunately, understood pride and wasn't about to just slink away back to its chosen.

The closest thing the feathered serpent was capable of compromising was exactly the thing it did next. Which was rear up high enough to fully display its and still hissing menacingly at the mare in front of it. All the while not-so-subtly slithering back. It wasn't retreating, far from it! It knew you didn't turn your back on someone like this while you made a strategic advance to the rear. And once it had advanced far enough into the rear, then it would turn tail.

"Clever, aren't you," she cooed as it began it's defensive display all while retreating away from her. She chuckled, rising up and taking too much enjoyment from how much she towered over the poor dear that was too far over its head. Even the wings did little against her height and stature; and she considered herself small, really.

There was no need to terrify it longer, no, and as she was the predator in this encounter, she did safely and confidently turn her back to it. She waded further into the pond's depths and then it was a swan again. Idle, small, but definitely not prey. And now, she had an idea. She'd have to thank it another time.