( complete ) the lioness is hunting us
WHO: Tira, Fang.
WHAT: One last kill before the world crumbles beneath Tira's feet.
WHERE: The jungle somewhere.
WHEN: Midday.
NOTES: You may want to ignore this one if you don't like blood and gore. As per usual, Tira gets quite messy, thus forcing me to warningly label this as graphic.
His wings. He had beautiful, black wings; just like the ravens she loved so dearly. She wanted to touch them. She wanted to preen them. She wanted them for herself. Her decisions were impulsive and her prey had already wandered off the beaten path, unknowingly towards the vicious lioness monstrosity -- but still she stalked in the shadows at first.
Those pretty wings she longed to claim as her own could flutter away from her at any moment, and she would not let that happen. Looming like a cat, Aiselne Drossel bared like sharpened claws, Tira followed and waited for her chance to pounce.
One more step. Two more steps. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and softly she spoke under her breath, "You've come all this way just to die." She could have laughed.
But she was hunting, and predators never gave away their position.
Three more steps. "That body..." Her voice started quiet, only for her ears. "Those wings..." Four more steps. "They're so pretty..." Closer and closer she came, blade shining in the sun behind the boy, unnoticed. "I want them... give them to me!"
In a flash, blood was splattered across her face.
Tira vaguely recognized some sort of angry screech come from the boy, but her excitement had drown everything out -- even the minor injuries she had taken to herself as her prey fought back. The boy was strong, he was definitely a fighter, but there was no fighting a fatal slash that trailed all the way down from his neck to his middle back. Laughter spilled from Tira's painted lips. The second her prey hit the ground, the young woman's foot was shoving his face down into the dirt as blood still spurted out of the wound onto the fabric of Tira's clothes. Movement and weakened thrashing followed, but the swing of a blade and its contact with flesh eventually rendered his body near motionless.
Then, careful with her footing as to not damage those lovely pair of wings, she quietly crouched down over his back and removed her foot from its place on his head. Her skillful, calloused hands, slick with blood, slid over the still-bleeding slash, and settled around his neck. "Bye bye."
A sickening crack sounded throughout the area.
Laughter came to her once more. Those wings were hers for the taking now. All she had to was to physically claim them. It had been so delightfully easy.
Tira stood, treating the body with utmost carelessness, and took a hold of one wing with her left hand. In her right she held Aiselne Drossel -- and then immediately began to hack away at the bone that kept the wing to the boy's back. A few bloody minutes later, and she had started on the other wing, loose feathers floating away as she worked. Eventually, Tira was sitting on the ground beside her latest playmate, hugging a pair of severed wings close to her chest. So beautiful, so beautiful -- and they were hers, all hers. Crimson pooled all around her and her dead little friend, and her laughter turned hysteric.
"Master..." She whispered between uncontrollable giggles. "Are you proud? Are you happy?" The journal that she had been carrying had fallen to the ground beside her, the edges soaking up the blood that hadn't seeped into the soil or Tira's clothes. "I'll make... you happy!"
She was just another fractured heart to add to the pile.
WHAT: One last kill before the world crumbles beneath Tira's feet.
WHERE: The jungle somewhere.
WHEN: Midday.
NOTES: You may want to ignore this one if you don't like blood and gore. As per usual, Tira gets quite messy, thus forcing me to warningly label this as graphic.
His wings. He had beautiful, black wings; just like the ravens she loved so dearly. She wanted to touch them. She wanted to preen them. She wanted them for herself. Her decisions were impulsive and her prey had already wandered off the beaten path, unknowingly towards the vicious lioness monstrosity -- but still she stalked in the shadows at first.
Those pretty wings she longed to claim as her own could flutter away from her at any moment, and she would not let that happen. Looming like a cat, Aiselne Drossel bared like sharpened claws, Tira followed and waited for her chance to pounce.
One more step. Two more steps. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and softly she spoke under her breath, "You've come all this way just to die." She could have laughed.
But she was hunting, and predators never gave away their position.
Three more steps. "That body..." Her voice started quiet, only for her ears. "Those wings..." Four more steps. "They're so pretty..." Closer and closer she came, blade shining in the sun behind the boy, unnoticed. "I want them... give them to me!"
In a flash, blood was splattered across her face.
Tira vaguely recognized some sort of angry screech come from the boy, but her excitement had drown everything out -- even the minor injuries she had taken to herself as her prey fought back. The boy was strong, he was definitely a fighter, but there was no fighting a fatal slash that trailed all the way down from his neck to his middle back. Laughter spilled from Tira's painted lips. The second her prey hit the ground, the young woman's foot was shoving his face down into the dirt as blood still spurted out of the wound onto the fabric of Tira's clothes. Movement and weakened thrashing followed, but the swing of a blade and its contact with flesh eventually rendered his body near motionless.
Then, careful with her footing as to not damage those lovely pair of wings, she quietly crouched down over his back and removed her foot from its place on his head. Her skillful, calloused hands, slick with blood, slid over the still-bleeding slash, and settled around his neck. "Bye bye."
A sickening crack sounded throughout the area.
Laughter came to her once more. Those wings were hers for the taking now. All she had to was to physically claim them. It had been so delightfully easy.
Tira stood, treating the body with utmost carelessness, and took a hold of one wing with her left hand. In her right she held Aiselne Drossel -- and then immediately began to hack away at the bone that kept the wing to the boy's back. A few bloody minutes later, and she had started on the other wing, loose feathers floating away as she worked. Eventually, Tira was sitting on the ground beside her latest playmate, hugging a pair of severed wings close to her chest. So beautiful, so beautiful -- and they were hers, all hers. Crimson pooled all around her and her dead little friend, and her laughter turned hysteric.
"Master..." She whispered between uncontrollable giggles. "Are you proud? Are you happy?" The journal that she had been carrying had fallen to the ground beside her, the edges soaking up the blood that hadn't seeped into the soil or Tira's clothes. "I'll make... you happy!"
She was just another fractured heart to add to the pile.