Saturday, October 4, 2008
It waited in the desert, lazy to hunt. There was little need. It turned it's great head, and his neck strained. Flies buzzed around it's five horns, and it smelled the human and his gift even before it could see him. They always sought it, bringing with them a human head, for the Garach had a gift. After eating the head of a human, it could bring back the memories within, but it only allowed each human to ask three questions of it. Most of the time, the bringer of heads would want to know how the person had died, whether it was by fair or foul play, and whether it had died filled with hate or love. Sadly, it was more often the former. The Garach waited, flicking it's great tongue, eager for the feeding to begins soon.