a half-life; a cursed life

JACK

Yeah, yeah, yeah - Mourn is quiet and peaceful and there are offerings and people sit in tranquility to grieve their loved ones and whatever. More importantly, though, there's a chance of seeing unicorns. And the good captain has his eye on one and the horn in its head before the night is through; it's his last stop, in fact, before returning to Torchline for the foreseeable future. He'd landed The Ark in the safety of the waters just beyond the Boondocks, preferring to get this little bit part of his quest over with alone and on foot.

The sun has just sank down beneath the horizon, painting the sky in dying hues of pink and indigo, and Jack has spotted a herd of the pale, horned equines just over a rise where he's been walking. It isn't often that he has to hunt anything on land, but in the past few days alone there have been boggarts and mirage crabs and fuck knows what else along the way, so this, he thinks, shouldn't actually be too difficult.

Unicorns don't have sharp teeth, tentacles or pincers, and as far as he knows, they also don't become your worst nightmare right in front of you. A win-win, in Jack's book.

romancing yourself is possible, narcissistic
and recommended

Longheat brought with it delicious warmth around Caido and the chance for a tropics-loving Ancient to travel around and do a bit of sight-seeing without freezing her modest tits off. And what was a little vacation without trying the local cuisine? She'd never tried unicorn before, and rumor had it that they tasted like carbonated rainbows. Even if she hadn't been nearing the countdown on her bloodlust she would have been tempted to go looking for a bite.

But hey, she was feeling a mite peckish and as lovely as the repetitively rolling hills and featureless flowery meadows were, she was way more interested in the herd of horned herbivores drifting across the landscape below in their evening grazing.

The gore crow circled high above them, her feathers blood red in the light of the dying sun, as she lazily tried to pick her target. That one looked a bit chubby and would have good marbling, but the little one was probably more tender... oooh, or the one with the golden horn might be especially tasty? In the middle of her decision paralysis she caught movement off to the side of the herd on the other side of a small rise in the landscape. Clacking her beak softly to herself in curiosity she circled lower towards him, trying to get a feel for his intentions.