Herbalists' Cache The demon sat there waiting on her porch

He spoke to her so softly then, and while Octavia did not really comprehend what he was saying, she seemed to respond to it. She started to hum in tune to the beat of the syllables - a second or two after he spoke them, but still, she heard and she reacted - but the sounds were so dim that they remained as undercurrents to his statements. The sounds began to hitch in her throat after a minute or two. Her breath struggled to claw its way up her throat and out, and she was idly opening her mouth as if to plant a kiss upon him, as if she were drunk and yearning for affection, when really she was gasping for some air. She tasted the musk that hung about his shoulders and somewhere inside her mind, something clicked.

Tavi murmured something small and insignificant - although anything at this point could be misconstrued as the most significant thing she'd ever said - and she sucked in a desperate little breath. Her lungs were failing. The little motor that was her heart, having been working so hard and so quickly, had finally reached a point of stillness that the rest of her body had begun to slow down. Stark had soothed her - he had killed her.

As she nibbled at the air, and at his fur, and at the memory of something (a shard, to pepper her mind), Tavi sighed, luh, luh... een.. eehn, and then she was still. Her eyes remained half-lidded, but the light was gone.