Several days had passed since I consumed the wyverns. During that time I ate another unicorn, a dire goat, two dire badgers and a host of miscellaneous lesser critters with interesting or unique attributes. While my form has not changed in any significant way, my magic aura has become significantly more dense. This has made it even easier for me to withdraw it into myself, and has caused my transformation to speed up significantly. It now only takes me about ten seconds to completely transform.

I would like to learn how to shape my aura like that furred human that I observed for a while, however, my control of my aura is still rather clumsy. My attempts to push my thoughts into it have only resulted in all the lesser creatures in my area fleeing and leaving the place reeking of fear.

My flying ability had improved significantly. I could now land without crashing, and had fairly decent maneuverability. I still required a bit of a running start to take off, but that too would improve with practice. However, it was still not at the level I was comfortable hunting in that form.

I continued to travel on the ground, as there were far bigger things than me flying in the skies, which I had spotted numerous times in the distance. Many of them seemed to live even further up the mountain. Until I was certain that I was strong enough to hunt them, I figured I’d rather avoid drawing their attention. Also, I didn't have a good way to carry my club while flying, and there was no way I’d leave it behind.

After that period of light hunting, I felt much more comfortable with using my newly acquired strength. Truly, feasting upon those wyverns was of great benefit to me. I now was confident that I could stand toe to toe with a troll in combat, although I doubt I’d be able to bring one down in a timely manner without ambushing it. After all, their regeneration makes them difficult to kill without inflicting overwhelming damage.

I resolved myself to try to ambush a troll the next time I detected one.

As my path meandered further up the mountains, the malodorous vermin known as goblins became more prevalent. They even appeared slightly stronger than the ones in the valleys closer to the base of the mountain, although that's not exactly a difficult standard to surpass. Some of their patrols even rode wolves that they’d somehow tamed. I found this distasteful. Surely the wolves could simply rip the goblins from their backs and devour them, so why didn’t they? The thought of their subservience put a foul taste in my mouth.

I did not bother trying to avoid these patrols. Any that managed to stumble across me I annihilated. This led to me acquiring a new habit. As I could not bear the fetid stink of the goblin blood that splashed upon me, and I could not bear to lick it off myself as I normally would, I took to bathing myself in mountain streams, using the cold, clear water to wash their stench from me.

The only thing that stopped me from going into their warrens and erasing such a blight from existence was the thought of their stench, and how it would cling to me and how much worse it would be in the confines of a cave system. I truly detested their existence.

Finally, I found a suitable diversion to take my mind off of those filth, and fill me with anticipation. I found a troll lair.

I suppressed my presence, and began to scout it out.

The lair was a large and crudely built hut, made from a number of boulders, large stones and logs. The area around it was littered with decomposing piles of troll spoor. I could smell two adult trolls. One of the adults smelled like it was going to whelp soon, and that one seemed to stay within the lair.

Presently, the other adult was gone. I could not sense them nearby.

This was a perfect opportunity that I could not pass up. The pregnant troll should be easy prey, then I could ambush the other when it returned to the lair. I was also happy to finally get a chance to properly test the wyvern tail venom against a strong target. I had not yet needed to resort to using venom to weaken a target since I acquired it.

I set the club aside, as it wouldn’t be capable of the kind of damage I needed to inflict upon the trolls, and shifted to all fours. Then, with great care, I crept toward the entrance of the troll lair. While there were many gaps in the shoddy structure, none were so large that I could squeeze through them stealthily.

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The gravid troll sat opposite the entrance to the lair, hunched over a partially eaten corpse of a particularly large dire goat. The troll leisurely reached over and tore off another chunk of the corpse, and shoved it into her mouth, bones and all. I approved. It’s wasteful to leave anything behind. The floor of the lair was hard packed dirt, and there was plenty of space to move around. With her attention on her meal, I slid along the wall and circled to her rear, then tensed up, preparing to pounce.

With all the strength in my legs, I jumped at the troll’s back. I landed on the top of her back, my momentum knocking her forward a bit. As I did the last time I fought a troll, I sank my fangs into her neck and began pumping in venom. As I did this, my legs began digging towards vital organs and my arms reached around to tear and slash at my prey’s throat. All the while, I lashed my tail about. Wherever my tail struck, quills broke loose and pumped their toxin into the troll. I managed to lodge quills in her lower back and both arms, and just kept striking over and over.

The fight was over surprisingly fast. The wyvern’s tail venom was quite potent, as it paralyzed the areas I struck. Almost as soon as the quills struck, the nearby muscles would lock up, and the effect would continue to spread. Even the troll’s regeneration capabilities could only slow down its spread, as the quill continued to pump its load of venom into my prey’s body. With my prey nearly immobile, I focused on killing it, and tore out its throat with the claws on my hands. It took a few minutes for the troll to bleed out as I continued to tear at its neck, preventing its regeneration from closing the opened blood vessels.

By the time it finally died, the dirt floor was soaked with troll blood. Having learned my lesson the last time, I immediately kicked off of the corpse as it collapsed backwards.

I was elated. The wyvern tail venom was an absolute success! Truly, it was a formidable weapon to add to my already potent arsenal.

Ah, well, that could be a problem, I thought, as I briefly looked at my tail. By continuing to strike at the troll with my tail, I had broken off all of the quills. I could see the tiny points of new quills slowly growing in, but it would take time. Time I might not have. The scent of troll blood was heavy in the air, and the other troll would undoubtedly return soon.

I considered my options as I began to rip off chunks of my prey and feed.

I absentmindedly ate while I monitored the surrounding woods. I barely even noticed that I could now crack through all but the thickest bones in the troll’s body. I had consumed the limbs and most of the abdomen by the time I detected the other troll returning. I could faintly hear it crashing through the underbrush and bulling through smaller trees, its aura flaring wildly out of control. I glanced at my tail, but the quills were still taking a stubbornly long time to grow.

I gazed longingly at the corpse before me. Well, nothing to be done about it. I hate to waste a meal as rich as this, but in my current state it would take far too long to kill or drive off the other troll. By then, all the magic aura would likely have faded from the still uneaten flesh and it would be wasted anyways. A shame.

I fled the troll lair and headed for a nearby stream to quickly rinse the blood and gore from my body, and cleanse myself of the troll scent. Satisfied that I could no longer smell it on me, I crept back toward the troll lair just in time to see the arrival of the other troll. Its great loping strides carried it quickly across the ground, and it slowed as it approached the lair. Almost tentatively, it stepped inside.

A loud pained roar erupted from within and reverberated through the air. The troll stepped out of its lair, sniffing at the air, then took off running in the direction I had fled to reach the stream. I watched curiously from a perch up in the high branches in a tree. Minutes later, the troll sulked back. It stood staring at its lair for several long minutes, before letting out a frenzied roar. It threw itself at the structure and began to smash at it, tearing it down. It threw logs and stones haphazardly and smashed at it with its fists until the entire thing collapsed.

I watched with dispassionate curiosity, though that odd corner of my mind tried to push something called pity and guilt on me. I shoved those down and ignored it.

With nothing further to rage at, the troll slumped down to its knees and leaned its head against one of the boulders from the ruined lair. Slightly influenced by the other part of my mind, I decided to put this beast out of its misery. I was still without the quills on my tail, but I should still be able to kill it in its current state.

I carefully climbed down from my perch, and snuck up from behind the troll. I leapt on its back and began to tear at its throat with my claws while I clamped down on its spine with my jaws and began injecting venom.

To my surprise, aside from a brief flinch, the troll didn’t struggle or fight back. So I tore its throat out without further delay. The other part of my mind kept trying to push more stupid concepts at me, but I steadfastly ignored them as the beast bled out then collapsed in death.

I am a predator. I was stronger, so I took their lives. That is only natural.