Strikeclaw(My name for the Grimsaurus here)'s thoughts: I didn't understand it, these three smelled of Grimm death. They where all hunters of the light, made and trained to kill us -new ones, I could tell. I saw little of my kind's essance staining their claws.- But yet still, I felt no urge nor prod from the Great One to lash out, to try and spill their blood on the ground, it was.... unlike anything else I'd ever encountered before. Silence, the great pounding voice of that which made me reaching out.

The silence was... eerie. But welcome, it was.... peaceful, wasn't that it?

It seemed my lack of agression had evoked a mirrored reaction. Unlike the rest of my kin who threw themselves against the hunters' claws -Ursa and Beowolf, as they had been named by the lightborn, had fell all the same- I had gained an odd curiosity from the four. And one approached, to my own curiosity while the other three babbled on in those odd noises lightborn make.

When the Young Red One reached a hand out, I thought my time of peace would end, that the Great One would scream for me to strike whileshe was vulnerable, to tear the meat from her bones with my own claws as vengeance for the fallen ilk... but there was no scream, no urge, nothing.

And when the Young Red One's hand touched upon me, I felt the most heavenly of sensations. Unlike any the Great One bestowed upon me for ending lightborn, the slight movements of her wonderious small digits against the softer of my hide felt... indescribable. As if you had see only in black and white 'till something came along to show you the wonders of color.



I let out the tinyest trill of pleasure, my vast self control the only thing halting me from aking it louder than the roar of the Large Yellow One's claws. And a very much kin sound came from the Young Red One, what is was I do not know. but it sounded much like the gutteral sounds an Ursa made when it crushed a human below it's mightly paws. Yet.... softer, gentler, more... Loving? Benevolent? Joyful? I do not know.

Then when the Young red One moved it's hand to move across my underbelly, I lost it. Falling on my side and letting my head brush up against hers

"Who's a good boy? You're a good boy! Yes you are!"

I knew not what it spoke of, but the word filled me with the utmost joy.

"... RUBY! What are you doing?!"

The shriek of admonishment and chastization came from the Commanding White One, much like that of a Nevermore calling orders to the lesser Grimm.

This will not end well.

"... This won't end well."

And the Beastly Black One agreed.



I heard the rustling and rush of more hunters approaching, and the smell of my kind's essence was much thicker on them. I rose to my feet and growled, turning my head towards the new arrivals.

Hm. I will call them...

The Energetic Pink One.

The Stoic Green One.

The Experinced Orange One.

And.... The Dangerious Blue-eyed One.