The lazy beast has barely done anything all day, though this makes today no different than any other day frankly. It was a typical routine, party all night, sleep all day and then some. Scavenge for some food, check what remainder of clothes he had, see if there was any thieving he needed to accomplish. Marcelo had taken quite a liking to the shoes in this modern day. Having hardly worn shoes as a child, the bronzed haired boy quite enjoyed wearing the newest pair of shoes he could swipe, white vans, black converse, even a pair of Gucci slides have all managed to find a place on his immortal feet. Of course, most of his shoes were lost when he would shift from human to jackal, meaning his shoes typically never even stood a chance of becoming tarnished, not that the boy would have kept them had they become such. Only the newest and the best for such a creature as he.
Earthen eyes blink a few times as he stares up at the ceiling, contemplating what he ought to do for the rest of his day. Dark gaze shifts downwards to his feet, encased with a pair of black socks, he had come a long way from the poor peasant back in Spain. And just as he is thinking this, a face surfaces across the span of his memory. It is his own. Younger than even it was now, tanned by the sun he spent the majority of his days under, he is perhaps no older than four or five, his mother pregnant with the child that would become his third sibling, and their family's first baby girl. Coming home from the market place with his mother he bounds over the hill and there lay his tiny hovel of a home, so small that there were only two rooms. His parents' and the rest of the house, where he and his brothers slept, nearly touching shoulder to shoulder. But, young Marcelo knows no better and it is his home, the home he loves. Loved being tucked in between each of his older brothers, knowing there would be no chance that he would roll off the sleeping mat they shared, while the middle was hottest in the summer, it was warmest in the winter, and secretly the young boy enjoyed the company of his brothers, knowing he need not even look over to make sure they both were still there. He had been fearless then, even more so than the reckless lad was now.
Mahogany eyes blink the memory away, that had been over five hundred years ago, five or six life times as the average were or human for that matter. His arms are tucked and crossed behind his bed, he feels the blankets against the bare skin of his back. As he moves himself to a standing position, one of his hands reaches back and brushes his brandished gold hair as his stomach begins to growl with hunger. Chocolate eyes glance downwards for a moment at his bare stomach. Looks like it was time to eat. Eyes shine with a wild delight with the hunt.
Since the boy is unaware after he transforms if he will have his clothing attire or not, he picks a simple attire, a pair of khaki pants and a maroon colored hoodie that he throws on over his bare chest. The sun was going down, and despite it being late summer nearly early autumn, the nights were beginning to get cold. He ties a pair of grey converse onto his feet before heading out the door, his body already itching to become the animal within him, it was simply longing for a release from this human body. Dark eyes seem to nearly twinkle with a manic delight as he moves down an alleyway, out of sight of prying eyes that could belong to hunters or worse, tattle tales, Marcelo knows he is finally able to be free. A big fan of the spectacle, Marcelo moves off into a sprint, his feet pounding pavement before his frame nearly seems to shrink, while face grows longer, dark eyes turn into a fiery amber, and he lets loose a wicked howl that can only belong to a creature as deceitful as a wild jackal. That wily grin turns into sharp canines, anxious to tear into fresh flesh as four long legs stretch forward as he makes his way to the woods of the southern part of town.
Air flows in and out of that cold, wet nose of his as he focuses ahead of himself, running out into the street with wails of freight at having a wild, coyote looking dog run passed. A little girl reaches out to try to touch him as her mother pulls her away. "He could give you rabies!" she exclaims fearfully. "I wouldn't tempt me," Marcelo snickers in the language of weres, one a simple human would never understand. Obsidian and silver back, marking him as the African Jackal he is, seems to nearly glimmer in the dying light as he slows his pace only when he reaches the park, critical amber eyes staring around for his next meal.
He moves through the summer grasses, a seemingly endless carpet of green with stealth and silence. The only time anyone could find a quiet Marcelo, when he was attempting to find his next meal to filly his belly. Those wild eyes are incredibly steady, as nose twitches, and ears remain alert and forward. It only when he hears the cry of an animal that the jackal moves off, his gait surprisingly graceful as he trots along. He could tell by the noise that it was an animal in pain, most likely injured as the cries were far too drawn out for it having been an attack from another predator. Poor thing, well, Marcelo will put you out of your misery soon enough.
The deviant were takes off in the direction of the sound, those cupped ears pressed forward atop his head so he did not lose track of where the sound was coming from. If he lost this easy catch, Marcelo may actually have to work for his dinner, just like everyone else. But Marcelo was feeling a tad bit destructive, his predatory side winning out in the moment against the human that now lays dormant within him. As burning amber eyes spot the rabbit with the lame foot, a feral growl creeps from the depths of his throat as he stands for just a moment, observing the creature. It wouldn't last through the night, if the jackal did not kill the thing, then some other beast would, but at least Marcelo's belly would be full.
A wild leap.
It is over in an instant.
Paws hold onto the creature as his jaws clamp around it, enjoying the taste of fresh meat. Teeth shear through its tender flesh with ease, those ivory fangs exposed for only a second at a time as he reaches and takes another bite of his prey. Those gold sheeted eyes close for just a moment as he enjoys the feeling of his stomach filling, the hunger easing. The predator finally satiated.
Marcelo Lucas Rumeirimage by Vincent van Zalinge