#Mini static is her form right before TV static. a somewhat lucid about to lose it form she can recover from.

[wolftheidioticfan]

I think when Saltie first crawled out of the TV and first rampaged there had to be a folktale or warning written about him. (gore and slight horror warning)

Because imagine you are the lone survivor after your village takes in what you all assume to be a normal brown anthropomorphic hare, who seems to just be lost and confused and looking for somewhere to stay. (in the world Saltie is from, anthro animals are pretty average!)

You take it in, and at first everything seems fine. Strange things kind of occur around the hare, but no one says anything. Suspicion grows around the third day when that hare does something...akin to some sort of magic. Some kind of logic this world does not follow. Murmurs grow about wondering the real intentions as the hare doesn't speak quite normally, always seems out of place and unaware of any kind of living norms. Asks questions no one asks.

And as the hare gets pressured, it changes one day. Its still relatively the same size as when you had met it. Except now its fur is pitch black, shaggy. With tall horns and piercing yellow eyes that seem to lock onto everything and everyone. Your village calls it Baphomet, the devil, a hellspawn. It calls out in confusion, claiming it only wanted friends, that it doesn't understand what's happening, begs for help.

Eventually, it slaughters your cattle. And the village decides they must put the beast of Baphomet to rest. They try to cull it through its heart, but the 'hare' simply gets up, confused, bleeding, as if it had never known pain before. They try everything as it pleads for you all to stop. Maybe you should have. Maybe you should have listened.

The village decides the only way to deal with the devil is to burn it. It's horrific. Its screaming long after it should be dead, long after its fur and flesh begin to melt and splatter against the pyre you had tied it to. The devil won't die. Eventually, it seems to go quiet. And the villagers rejoice as the flames die out, leaving something inhuman, un-animal to smother out in the dust. They leave to feast and talk about the great feat of extinguishing that which would not die. But you stay behind.

And something worse rackets out of the destroyed pyre. Large and sleek black, with red fangs all too big for its mouth. Its tail is dripping ink and voice like the shrieking static of a long lost radio. And though it should be dead, unable to even limp yet alone run at the speed it takes to the village...It rips, and claws, and tears until nothing is left.

'Beware of El Toro. The bull. Though its name does not befit its appearance, you must take heed.

Never allow a brown hare into your towns, your villages, your cities.

For should you grow weary, it will begin to reveal what it truly is.

It is no demon, no executioner from this world.

Killing it is futile. Burning it a mistake.

For once you have done what you cannot take back, the beast will return with force.

El Toro does not sleep, does not mourn, does not think. It simply consumes all before it. Your women, your men, your children and cattle.

And when El Toro awakes, small and meek with blood matted into its loathsome fur...It will see the carnage it has wrought.

...

And El Toro will run. As that is all it has ever known.'