Maea
What you're given, what you live in
Darling, it finds a way to live in you
Darling, it finds a way to live in you
Hot blood spilled out along with intestines as the elk was disemboweled. For a few ravenous moments she was able to slake her hunger on liver and heart, delving deep for the precious organs so quick to spoil if left for later. Bloodlust eased off her mind, and with the satiation a clarity returned to her thoughts that let her consider the morning in a new light.
From the other side of that river, a faint thud was followed by a muffled groan. She heard it only thanks to the tiger's superior hearing. Looking up, she spotted Liam once again, further away now but on the ground. Had he fallen? That was strange - completely out of character for the soldier with the steady gait and the confident posture, who trained every morning to keep his skills from rusting.
Alarmed enough to tear herself from her prey, the tigress stood and stalked along the river for a spot narrow enough that she might cross. Finding one, she gathered herself and leaped in a giant bound over the cold water; her hind legs plunged into the icy current and splashed water all over her hide.
Approaching the downed dragoon with a certain caution, Maea poked her head in over him to try and see his face despite the arm he hid behind. A mixture of water and blood dripped down onto him; recalling the heat of the molten metal soon to follow, she caught herself and jerked back; a concerned chuff left her chest, resonant and very cat-like as she sank onto her haunches. The scent of alcohol tore at her nose, only adding to her concern.
It was a scent she knew well, though not one she had ever associated with this particular man. It tied her stomach into entirely new knots – and kept Maea in the molten tiger's form, as if to shield herself from this most karmic of scenarios.
From the other side of that river, a faint thud was followed by a muffled groan. She heard it only thanks to the tiger's superior hearing. Looking up, she spotted Liam once again, further away now but on the ground. Had he fallen? That was strange - completely out of character for the soldier with the steady gait and the confident posture, who trained every morning to keep his skills from rusting.
Alarmed enough to tear herself from her prey, the tigress stood and stalked along the river for a spot narrow enough that she might cross. Finding one, she gathered herself and leaped in a giant bound over the cold water; her hind legs plunged into the icy current and splashed water all over her hide.
Approaching the downed dragoon with a certain caution, Maea poked her head in over him to try and see his face despite the arm he hid behind. A mixture of water and blood dripped down onto him; recalling the heat of the molten metal soon to follow, she caught herself and jerked back; a concerned chuff left her chest, resonant and very cat-like as she sank onto her haunches. The scent of alcohol tore at her nose, only adding to her concern.
It was a scent she knew well, though not one she had ever associated with this particular man. It tied her stomach into entirely new knots – and kept Maea in the molten tiger's form, as if to shield herself from this most karmic of scenarios.
And your heart, love, has such darkness
I feel it in the corners of the room
I feel it in the corners of the room
