Bearclaw Valley the masque of the red death

backdated to yesterday bc of the Earp thread today

something has been gnawing at her since the confrontation in the meadow. not in a bad way, necessarily. mostly just curiosity run rampant, occupying daily musings. it's gotten in the way of physical focus—spoiled spars and distracted from hunts—and it has ruled her mind for long enough.

a bright pop! as she wrings the rabbit's neck, blood welling against the tight hold of her teeth. Avicus drops the prey and stares at it for a long moment. limp, broken, dead. so small and pathetic against the dying grass. she stands alone between two trees, having chased the creature from open ground into thicker foliage. the shadows cloak them both.

limp, broken, dead. was that how she had looked, when Merrick had taken her life?

Avicus swallows the thought for now, washing it down with rabbit. she devours the thing like it's the only food left on earth, meat and blood and bone all together. her lips are stained red as she finishes, and she doesn't even pause to lick her chops before lifting her muzzle and calling for @Merrick, wherever he may be.

it is time to kill the curiosity before curiosity kills the cat.