Today, she set out to find the catalysts for a very different cause. No longer were her little escapades so self-serving, a means to an end when a question buzzed buzzed buzzed around her mind until she had no choice but to find an answer. Now there was purpose in her step, and it seemed the quiet shame that often found her in times like these was absent. Dangerously so.

The little purple flowers that poked up from mossy, damp earth; she looked for these in the spots where the snow had melted, which were few and far between, this time of year.

When she did manage to source some out, they were meager little pickings, but plenty potent in each petal. Envy did not harvest these with her mouth, taking no risk of ingestion. Instead, clawed white paws tore at the soil with practiced skill, a misplaced maternal sort of care taken to assure the sweet pretty flowers took no damage. When she unearthed them all, she crouched and nudged them with her nose into a small pouch made of sap-stuck thick leaves. It served its purpose.

Crocus petals kept away from her tongue and teeth, she carried on. What a nasty one, this was. She shuddered with a perverse sort of anticipation.

First, a tattered mess of ear, tall and dipped in charcoal, would swivel to the sound of crunching snow, the ever closer steps of another. Envy paid no mind, today she was rather unconcerned with strangers comings and goings, a symptom of her tunnel vision.

But she could ignore it no longer! Not when she was spoken to. Hmm? her voice came softly, whelpish curiosity a spark in owlish eyes of rich crimson. The stranger before her was an interesting thing, a pretty sort of weird-looking, with a face split between bone-white and a darkness that seemed to swallow the rest of her. Something yellow clung to her ear, flicking in the subtle breeze. Envy’d never seen something like it, but she bit back the question for now and set down her little makeshift purse. Wouldn’t you like to know. She quipped with a tilt of her head, staring the other down intensely, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Then she snickered, crooked tail sweeping at the backs of her legs as she amused herself. I’m just kiddin’. They’re not for nothin’ imminent, I’m jus’ taking em’ while they’re here. She’d shrug, sitting back onto stormy haunches casually. They’re pretty. Thought I’d bring em’ back and show them off. She leered inward a little, pearly white chest puffed between her legs.

Not quite a lie. Not quite the truth, either.

Envy did not know the second tongue she spoke with, and seemed to be disgruntled at that fact, a mixture of expressions clouding her face. If the other wore a veil, Envy took on a spotlight, no hiding the thoughts that scurried through her mind.

The stranger talked all fancy-like, a smooth, museful cadence to each word as they met with crisp winter air. She was right, pretty things could indeed be so terribly deadly, a potent poison swimming through each vein beneath the vibrant indigo of the petals; unseen and yet undoubtedly there. Envy admired the defense the little flowers took on, one that was so merciless and pure. And yet! There was good that could come from it too, for those who knew how to toe the line, and Envy was a born tightrope-walker.

Some however, were made purely for the invocation of pain, and death; slow and convulsing, the sort that burned the organs within and let its victims speak only through a mouthful of foam. What terrible perversion afflicted her that this thought stirred excitement within?

She hadn't lingered on the thought too long, as a question she understood was hurled her way. I am. N' I like ta' think I'm pretty good at it, too. She leered inwards, matching that same taunting amuse, before rising to light feet and trotting closer, closing the gap between them without caution; instead the waif boasted a confidence unfitting of her stature. Unsettling. Why'd'ya wanna know? You need somethin' fixed? She asked, enthusiasm unstifled; big red eyes practically begged for invitation, as did the slow sway of her tail. She used the closeness to invasively sniff at the other's coat, trying to gleam what she could from the physical, the tangible. She understood little from tone and expression alone, especially when intent was walled off behind them both.

Well is it working? She asked with a tilt of her head, flicking an ear. Envy found something entertaining in the unwavering stare of the masked-woman, she couldn't help but want to poke and prod at her, sniff out a crack in sentinel stone. Even her voice was all smooth n' certain, like some cryptic witch that could read your fortune, or hex your bloodline when ya make em' cross.

Good thing her own was already about as cursed as it coulda been.

What were ya like the last time? A bony shoulder came to nudge her side, maple-red eyes narrowed curiously, too tempted to resist.

She spoke in all these cryptic terms, a non-answer if there ever was one. Y'act like you know me. I don' have a 'problem'. She muttered, sitting back on scrawny haunches and looking the other over once more.

Envy was not capable of change. She could learn, sure, but she could not change, no matter how she tried to claw her way out of this cocoon, it sought to smother her and it always always had. Something biological prevented such growth. Something innate, rotten as the illegitimate blood that coursed through wretched veins. Feral little devil, ungovernable, even by her own mind.

Same old beast, now held by different hands. This was where change took its shape.

What was she like before? Little more scarred, maybe. Little more attuned to the cracking of ice before she was met with a cold plunge. A little less guilty at the thought of hurting others. What the world made her. I dunno. She gave a lackluster shrug. Before right now, right here, this very second? Her head would tilt to the side. I guess I was hungrier this morning than I am now.

Non-answer. She knew it too, looking all too smug about it.

That was the real answer. She'd always been this cursed thing, eaten the siblings she shared a womb with, turned her own mother against her, always this thing; a thief and an animal, all instinct and greed pretending to be someone.

Anything other than what her nature dictates. Well. Maybe before. Now she found that she could embrace it. Put the pieces together. Her mind might've been better for it.

Envy shifted on her paws, letting her expression fall to one more relaxed Y'know you talk like you're some fancy prophet. she remarks, knowing the woman's question stretched further. This time, she would give a real answer. ..I think... what I'm doing now will.. feed me.

A scrawny paw nudged the satchel full of crocus petals, long nails lingering on the texture. This stuff always has.

Sharply, she looks to the bone-faced woman now.

But I've always been held back. Folks're pretty resistant to good ideas, y'know? She snickered ...At least it's not something I need to worry about anymore.

Now she was embraced. Cradled.