Seeing Vaati again had shaken her greatly. So much so that, when they had parted from each other, she did not return to Wheeling Gull Isle right away. No, there was too much to digest, and too many people on the island worried about her to do so in peace. So she wandered along the coast instead, not stopping until she came to a sorry excuse for a forest, charred and abandoned.

Maegi wandered through the blackened stumps, the wreckage taking her mind, if only for a while, off her thoughts. What had happened? Had wolves lived here, before? There was greenery here and there, but it was scarce compared to the barrenness of the lot of it. It was strange, and sad, and she felt a sort of kinship with it, especially now.

Vaati! He was alive--but clearly changed. They would not live together under the boughs of Blackfeather again. She had grown out of her early childhood many moons ago, but it was, perhaps, this last encounter that had shut the door on it completely. Nothing was as it once had been. Her repose with Undersea had managed to distract from that fact, but with the reappearance of her older brother, it was clear. Painfully, starkly clear.

The girl sat with a huff, disturbing the ash that coated the forest floor. Her mismatched eyes wandered, taking in every bit of damage. No one would disturb her here. No one wanted to come to this place.

She saw his eyes first. Two twin yellow orbs amidst the mournful remains of trees, coming closer and closer still. It was only when he emerged from the shadows did she recognize him, and a shiver ran through her, fear seizing her limbs in its grasp.

“Iliksis will challenge you and I will find one of your pups over there to rape until their rectum bleeds. When I am done, I will eat every tender piece of their sweet little body.”

That had been his uncle, the elder, but it was clear to her from the beginning that they were cut from the same cloth. Iliksis had defeated Vaati in the spar, but then the pair had departed, and she hadn't seen this wretch again until he had come to disturb Relmyna at her whelping den. With that, she thought he was gone for good. Evidently not.

"What do you want?" Maegi asked, trying to keep the quaver from her voice. She firmed her mouth, lifted her chin, staring defiantly up at the man.

His gaze lingered over her, and she didn't like it. No one had looked at her like this before. Perhaps if it were under different circumstances, the attention would be flattering. As it was, Maegi felt as if she were being savored, a treat before the main course. She blinked, slowly, holding his gaze, hoping the fear she felt in her stomach did not flit over her face.

"What do you mean?" she asked, putting up a facade of innocence. She had some idea of what was going through his mind--but so young, Maegi had little frame of reference for all things sexual. Violence, she knew well, like an old friend. Blood, fear, death. . .that was almost old hat, by now.

But desire and hunger? What she saw in his eyes? Waters untested, for the girl. And a girl she was. . . Maegi didn't know why he wouldn't just leave her be, find another woman to pester. Why he looked at her the way he did.

Creepy. He had always been so creepy.

He turned her stomach--it flipped like a bug, onto its back, its little legs flailing helplessly, trying to find its way back on its feet again. She was a fly, caught in a spider's web. It wasn't fair. She was the spider, not him. She was the child of the dark woods, not him. Let this spider devour her and he would face the wrath of the gods. Mephala would not stand for this.

She bared her teeth, which chattered loudly, to her displeasure. "Tell me what you want from me," she demanded, a newfound sort of courage coursing through her veins. Maybe it had been the chance encounter with Vaati that had given her more bravery. Or it could have been the time alone, having to fend for herself.

Did he think she was the same scared girl from the Woods? The left side of her face proved otherwise. She was marred, changed--chaos was etched into her skin. And though he frightened her greatly--she had no doubt of that--she would not let him have the satisfaction of knowing it. Her fear was not his to command, in which to relish.

Maegi shook her head as he pressed against her, shook it wildly, stumbling back and nearly tripping over a fallen charred branch. "No," she sputtered, the bravado gone from her voice. "Stop. I don't-- Don't touch me," she said. "Stay away."

It was different, from the way Mou embraced her. Or Rokig, or Droman, or Stockholm. His caress was primal, insistent. Stealing something from her that she did not want to give away. She shuffled on her three good paws, scattering the ash, face set in a troubled frown. Eyes widening, then narrowing again. Widening, narrowing again.

She couldn't decide between fear and disgust, and settled on a combination of the two. But she locked her eyes with his, not looking the slightest bit away. Maegi would not give him the satisfaction of looking away, of giving in entirely to whatever sick whims the man enjoyed. It would discredit her as a Melonii, as a Blackfeather, to crumble beneath that yellow gaze.

That's not for you to know, she thought fiercely, and her mouth opened to tell him just that when a memory bloomed suddenly in her mind. She remembered what she had told Yew, in the bloody aftermath of her torture, and the faintest of smiles lifted the corner of her mouth that held no scars, her eyes becoming almost dreamy as she stared back at Iliksis. "Molag Bal," Maegi said, her voice firm, definite.

She drew herself back up, squaring her shoulders. "And I am Peryite," she continued, tilting her head slightly to one side, as if examining him carefully. In truth, she did not see him; her eyes saw nothing, suddenly, but the machinations of her own mind, completely detached from the situation. Focus on the man again and her resolve would fall apart once more.

"My murder doesn't come through battles and blood. It comes slowly. Sickness. Sores." The smile on her face was completely at odds with the icy tone of her voice. "Touch me again and you will die a slow, painful death." She doubted it was enough to drive him away entirely, but perhaps it would buy her time to formulate a plan, a way to escape and make it back to the isle in one piece.

"Your guts will rot inside you," she said simply, her face clenching tight, nonetheless, at his threat. She laughed, the sound holding no humor. "Touching me is not worth that kind of pain." There was a note of bitterness in the statement, perhaps stemming from Potema's spurning of her litter, so many moons ago. No one had wanted her. Why would anyone want to touch her?

She was born deformed, and now she was even more so, half of her face torn to shreds.

Maegi shook her head, taking another step back. "Stay away from me," the girl said again, firmer, this time. "I don't want to see you again." Him or his foul uncle; the two of them were demons, nothing but trouble. She wondered if they had returned to the Woods at any point during her absence; she breathed in, pausing, but did not find the aroma of her old home on his pelt, even faintly so.

Disgusting, persistent man. His words made her skin crawl, and it was with some effort that she shook her head, keeping her gaze trained on him. "I would not," she said coolly. Definitely. The hunger in his eyes was unmistakable. Her toes bunched tight as she prepared to either fight or flee.

Then he was moving away from her, a dark shadow among the ash, growing farther and farther into the distance. Maegi let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, shoulders sagging with relief. Still, she walked almost sideways through the trees, her eyes lingering near the spot she'd seen him last. Her nose worked overtime, trying to keep track of his scent, his location.

She didn't trust him not to follow and ambush her, and she certainly wouldn't risk bringing him back to the isle.

But what if he came to the sandbar? Where would she go?