[se] things we lost (open!)

The blight is perhaps the strongest it’s ever been, the darkest before the dawn as they say. And she finds herself in the morning light, drawn toward the woodlands. Auni is left at home, and it’s only her, with the wind beneath her wings as she hunts. But within her, she realizes, sloping and touching the dirt beneath the trees, that she always hunts in this form. And what fun is that? The feral part of her yearns to get her hands dirty, covered and coated in blood, and so she shifts back into her person – adorned in lose fitting leathers and furs, hair tied back well enough in a small braid, as she takes soft steps to figure out where the prey might reside.

It takes her maybe half an hour among the cold, among the ice crisp earth beneath her feet – before she spots it, a squirrel in the distance, cold and only a fraction of an amount slower than it should have been. And that’s where she finds her target. Bolting through the trees and the undergrowth, she pushes her lungs and body to its max, until finally, finally she grabs the creature. The sun has risen behind the clouds, adorning the world in hues of ivories and blues. The snow begins to melt, creaking and cracking the branches around her as their weight grows heavier.

But it’s hard to tell which cracks are branches, or the poor creature’s neck.

And the next thing she knows, she’s devouring the poor squirrel, in the middle of a clearing, letting the warmth of the blood seep between her fingers.

Roana had been on her way to the jail to plant one of her roses, knowing many of the afflicted were there. But coming from the Mathair made her trek longer than normal and she trudged through the snow, remembering why LongHeat was undoubtedly her favorite season. The cold and the wet and the snow were not her thing. Her mind was pulled from its internal ranting though when an odd noise caught her ear. A snap that was far too loud for any normal animal to be about.

Quietly she tracked it to a small opening where a woman was devoring a squirrel, raw and bloody, with her bare hands. One of the blighted, and yet it still made her stomach lurch. Poor woman. She had heard that pricking them with a rose could soothe the symptoms for a time...perhaps she could give this woman that mercy. [say]"Hello, friend. What do you think of my flower?"[/say] she called, knowing the woman would be enraged by the sight of it and come closer.

The squirrel is nearly gone enough, the best parts devoured and the rest she figures her vulture form might appreciate more than the weakness of her human teeth. But before she has a chance, a sound distracts her, and she stands slowly, squirrel still in her hand as she turns to face the intruder. The corner of her lip flicks up in distaste, discarding the squirrel to the snow as she looks at who has approached. And she listens, if only half heartedly as Roana pulls out the flower.

Icy eyes drift toward Roana’s face as her curled lips shift into something akin to a smirk. “[say]I think it looks like shit.[/say]” She remarks casually, wiping the blood off on her shirt, a cruel smile crossing her face as she tilts her head. “[say]And I know you want to either plant the stupid thing or stab me with it.[/say]” She says with pride, as though she knows it’s true. Because she’s been stabbed multiple times and the blight within her hasn’t forgotten. And it won’t give in easily, this time.

[say]"Aw. That's an awfully mean thing to day about Vi's rose. I bet he worked really hard on this."[/say] Roana said with an exaggerated pout. Was she goading? Absolutely. That was the point. And clearly this woman had experienced the effects of the rose multiple times so she needed whatever advantage she could get. If she was enraged, irritated, or simply underestimated her, Roana would be able to use the rose against her more effectively.

[say]"Yes, I suppose that is what I would do with it."[/say] she said, considering the thing again before looking back at the woman. [say]"A terrible shame there is nothing you can do about it."[/say]

There’s a hum of a manic laugh at the woman’s words of Vi, pegging the woman with a steely look and dark raised brow. “[say]inaonekana kama mimi huduma?[/say]” She tells the woman, a gutteral language that seems sharp in context to the soft edges of the blighted woman. But based off the scars that pepper her body, it’s no surprise that perhaps she has a far more primal than elegant.

But her next claim makes Kiada fully laugh, and her iceberg eyes shift and pierce along the woman’s body, the hands holding the rose, before fur begins to fall into line on her arms — golden, bronze, bright as she fully shifts into her caracal form. And she hisses loudly to the woman, revealing extended and sharp canines. A threat, a dare.

Come and get me then. It seems to say.

---

inaonekana kama mimi huduma? — does it look like I care?

A caracal? Really? Was it her destiny to constantly be fighting cats, great and small? Decidedly a dog person Roana sighed, but smirked. Oh well. Who was she to call fate out on its jokes? Without further hesitation Roana rushed forward towards the blighted attuned, feinting at the last second to go right rather than left. She reached out to grab at her, hoping to gain purchase on a leg or scruff by which she could pin the woman, rose held protectively to her side. She just had to hope she was strong enough and fast enough to outmaneuver the woman.

Maybe the woman has a death wish. Maybe Kiada’s just so fucking tired of people stabbing her with thorns over and over again. Maybe it’s a combination of all of this that has Kiada darting around Roana’s reach, a roar of frustration leaving her throat as she bares her teeth again – fur bloody and scarlet among the usual bronze hues.

And she turns on her heel, despite Roana’s missed attempt, aiming to round back at the woman and launch herself at her. Teeth bared and claws outstretched, hoping to scratch, to maim, to attack. But it leaves her open, her chest and stomach open in the approach.

The woman evaded with feline given dexterity, but Roana was not deterred. She pulled to a stop, sliding only slightly on the snow. Bright blue eyes stayed locked on her target as she moved around her, following even as the ex-captain grounded herself. The thing about cats is that they all had rather similar reactions to things, they behaved similarly, and Kiada's pounce was anticipated. Roana didn't dodge though, she pounced back, her body aimed lower in an attempt to tackle the caracal to the ground - and if she was successful, she would do her darndest to poke her with a thorn from the rose.

Roana might have anticipated the pounce, but while the woman attempts to pounce back and tackle the Harpy into the ground, it goes slightly awry. The woman meets Kiada, her body aimed lower in order to tackle, but before Roana can pin her to the ground, the thorn reaches just between the bronze fur of her hip and her stomach, and Kiada hisses with the feeling, before dropping to the ground with Roana on top of her. She shifts back into herself, covered in blood with a wide look to her eyes, jaw clenched and heartbeat racing as she realizes what’s happened.

The two went tumbling to the ground but a grin curved Roana’s lips upon hearing the hiss from the cat as the thorn buried itself in fur and flesh. Nearly immediately the woman shifted back into her human form, seemingly shocked as she began to process just what occurred. The former captain rose quickly, not wanting to cause undue harm or discomfort to her. She quickly made sure that the rose was indeed intact and whole, then extended a hand to the woman on the ground. [say]”Sorry about that, but I thought you might appreciate having your own mind for a little while.”[/say] she said.