Maea
Stars, hide your fires
She might have been the first of those scavengers, had the dragon not dissolved into a much too familiar figure. Hunger suddenly warred not only with her own fears but with the awkwardness of being around her ex, no matter that any ill feelings had become as dust before the wind as years passed. It spoke volumes that she felt neither resentment, regret or longing upon seeing Sunjata - only hesitation, as the times when she'd been free to be vulnerable around him were long gone.
He paid no attention to her, however. Perhaps he didn't know about her shift, or didn't care even if he did. Maea hoped that was the case. The shield of anonymity emboldened her enough to come circling down towards the carcass, allowed her to set aside concerns about anything save the scuffle and contention as she fought for scraps with other corvids, with vultures and what other small scavengers that emerged now that the dragon was gone. Small enough to delve into the ribcage, she felt surprisingly little about consuming something that looked like her own shift. All that mattered was the straps of meat and organ she could peck away, and the building satiety in her gut.
There was still plenty of meat to go around. Once she'd had her fill, it was her turn to break away from the carcass. Without thinking she shifted back into her ancient form, face streaked with blood and gore as she headed for the water to wash up. Wiping crimson off her cheeks, she licked her fingers with a shudder of pleasure – and froze, realizing how unhinged she must look.
Ironically, she'd had nothing to say about what the Flood had been doing, only herself; caught being indulgent, unkempt, out of control...
Color rose in her cheeks, the deeply embarrassed flush of uncertainty, teetering on the edge between anger and shame.
He paid no attention to her, however. Perhaps he didn't know about her shift, or didn't care even if he did. Maea hoped that was the case. The shield of anonymity emboldened her enough to come circling down towards the carcass, allowed her to set aside concerns about anything save the scuffle and contention as she fought for scraps with other corvids, with vultures and what other small scavengers that emerged now that the dragon was gone. Small enough to delve into the ribcage, she felt surprisingly little about consuming something that looked like her own shift. All that mattered was the straps of meat and organ she could peck away, and the building satiety in her gut.
There was still plenty of meat to go around. Once she'd had her fill, it was her turn to break away from the carcass. Without thinking she shifted back into her ancient form, face streaked with blood and gore as she headed for the water to wash up. Wiping crimson off her cheeks, she licked her fingers with a shudder of pleasure – and froze, realizing how unhinged she must look.
Ironically, she'd had nothing to say about what the Flood had been doing, only herself; caught being indulgent, unkempt, out of control...
Color rose in her cheeks, the deeply embarrassed flush of uncertainty, teetering on the edge between anger and shame.
Let not light see my black and deep desires
