fire burned in his eyes, the memory of the one he had met amongst the rocks, and taltos played with the vision of her haunting face as he slid into the thick darkness of the woodland. hunger gnawed his belly, but the man was numb to it; indeed, he was numb to all things, save for the singular pursuit of companionship, of the witch. it was some dark curse that had befallen him, that never would he be content with the stillness roundabout unless bordered on all sides by the witch's power, the witch's love.
lasher paused alongside a small stream in the heart of darkness, nostrils flaring at the scent of water even as he lowered his muzzle to drink. murky eyes scanned the surrounding foliage, and taltos settled himself on the bank there, to sleep, to dream. he did not know, for he did not place surety or emphasis on the knowledge of what his body craved; he merely drifted in pursuit of whatever desire it demanded. the rising moon found him in fitful slumber beside the singing water.
Ferdie would have reprimanded her for leaving Swiftcurrent Creek without an escort. Bazi snorted a singular ha into the darkness at the thought. Every step was a thrilling affront to the exiled wolf's memory - she was a lone girl in the darkness, a dangerously bright beacon in the narrow corridor between two viciously defended territories.
Silvertip Mountain was given as wide a berth as the border of Horizon Ridge would allow. Bazi wasn't entirely stupid, and imagined she would prefer Ragnar's justice over Jinx. Lack of activity at home had driven her away from the Creek, and the moon was high in the sky by the time she was in the vicinity of the vein of dark water that had lulled Lasher to sleep. The forest's aroma was thick, but the snoozing male's musk was stronger. The young beta stopped abruptly, nostrils flaring - but not fast enough. The needle-strewn ground crunched beneath a careless step, and her position was given away. Bazi held her breath and waited, half wishing the invisible stranger would wake up and do something.
he came awake from dreams of the damned to spot an angel hovering near. his breath caught in his throat for a moment, and he let his eyes trace the gentle curves of her lovely face; she was breathtaking to him, her appearance flavoured moreso with the fact that from here, lasher knew the figure was female. slowly he gathered himself to his feet, regarding her with a mixture of immediate affection and apprehension.
if you have come to take me to Hell, spirit, do it quickly, taltos murmured after a moment's hush, murkwater eyes still lit upon her with the ardor of a dying man seeing sustenance within his reach. i will not be able to bear a longer ordeal.
Bazi took a tentative step forward, meeting the strangers nervous look with a curious gaze. It was too dark to pick out his exact colour or build; she knew him to be male, and there was a hint of an accent. Drunk or strange, the ghostly girl decided to play along.
"But ordeal is part of the experience," she whispered impishly, creeping towards him like a cat on the prowl.
she spoke, and in his thirst he heard only honey, only the sound of crystal, and drew carefully near to her even as she came to him. closer, she appeared mortal, and even wore the scent of other wolves, but he did not believe she was such — not yet. what sort of ordeal?
he was not a sensible beast, he was one ruled by emotion, and thus would wring whatever pleasures he could from this experience. flicking ears forward, he regarded her pleasantly. let me touch you, that i will know you are indeed a spirit, and not a fractious mortal.
"Do as you please," Bazi responded boldly to his request, keeping her tone as light and ethereal as a mere 'fractious mortal' could. If the earthly scent of her would put Lasher in doubt, she could always argue that it was a manufactured ruse to keep the unworthy at bay - or some other ridiculous lie. She was getting away with murder among the men of her own kind, and was starting to believe herself quite invincible - even though it was a far stretch to think that this creature would inhale her scent and believe her to be of some other world. But crazier things had happened.
She stood quite still, arranged like some pleasant porcelain figurine destined to look out on the world from glass cases. Should she stop breathing? No - that would be too difficult a lie to maintain.
boldened by her words, lasher took a single step forward and extended his muzzle, pressing lips against the edge of her jaw and tracing slowly down toward her throat, toward the mortal throb of blood that pulsed there. ah, he murmured, lingering a moment longer there before he drew away to find her eyes with his own. you devil. he spoke not as a threat, but in a whisper that intended mirth. it was not beyond him to keep with the ruse and believe that she remained an angel, for she certainly held the visage of one.
so, spirit, what ordeal have you for me to endure? he asked, settling himself on dark haunches before her. i shall not fight you. murky eyes danced with the brazenness of the joke, though some small part of him still thrummed with the possibility that she was but a spectre veiled in mortality.
"You devil."
Busted. Lasher pulled away, and Bazi grinned naughtily at him and mentally prepared to scamper. As it happened, that wasn't the end of their game - though her pulse had betrayed her, the stranger still called her spirit, and Bazi was happy to play along. "I want you to tell me a truth," she said, mirroring his position. "Something you wouldn't tell anyone else."
should you not know all? he mocked the spirit gently, though the smile that had lit her eyes had been quite angelic, not of the pit by any means. watching as she settled herself upon her gossamer haunches, taltos tipped his head at her request for his truth. laughter, he whispered, rather taken aback.
he was an open beast; he did not hide behind veils, and yet the vagueness of that which the angel requested was somewhat terrifying to the man. yet he had agreed to such, and eventually his gaze cleared with the welcome of what he would tell her. i have killed for those i loved, spirit, he said softly. many times. surely she would condemn him for this alone.
”And did that hurt you to admit?” she probed. He had confessed to something that any wolf would consider noble - unless there was more to his story than what she inferred. ”I can’t see any shame in a noble kill.” So - as it noble? But she waited to see if he would pick up on the unspoken cue.
he gave her a smile that was altogether both grim and wan. ah, but there was no nobility in it. those i loved did not ask me to kill; no, i rose up, and i struck down those who i did not deem worthy of their company. except in the case of deborah, whom he had not been able to save, lasher did not see the murder that splashed him invisibly red with blood as noble. necessary, yes, but lacking the honor the angel meant.
he looked to her again, and kept his eyes upon her, awaiting the next stage in this most interesting of games. and yet taltos wished to run away from her, and the ordeal of this truth, but he could not bring himself to do such a thing.
"But you seem so .. together," she praised, referring to Lasher's gracious handling of her lie and continued humouring of her. His eyes were still upon her, steady but.. concerned with the direction of the conversation. Bazi gazed brightly back. "What would I have had to do to earn your wrath, back then?" Presuming, of course, that his killing had been done in times long past. "Look at someone the wrong way?"
the angel seemed delighted with the revelation of his innate violence, even wavering for a moment in wonderment at his seemingly calm facade. she knew not the turmoil that raged within him; she was young; she was beautiful; and life was a pristine pearl to be plucked up and explored.
you would have to threaten death against one of my witches. i killed for suzanne as she could not defend herself, i killed for deborah's power; i would bring the very earth up to swallow those who intend violence, if i could. his gaze rested on her own, and he gave the sprite a small faint smile. but you have no such malice in you, spirit. you need have no fear.
His calm roused the opposite reaction in her. Bazi felt her control of the situation slip, and she was no longer sure of the direction of this game of twenty questions. Witch. Lecter had spoken of witchcraft. Lasher had a similar way about him, though he seemed more present than the mad king of Silvertip Mountain. Merely thinking of the shaman made her nose fill with the scent of decay, tightening the muscles in her face.
"Spirits and witches don't always get along," she found herself saying.
she did not seem to appreciate his answer, but he continued in the same vein, unwilling to break out of the game now that he had settled into it. we coexisted peacefully before, and we shall continue to do so, he told her. witches are not to be feared, they are to be loved. they think they command the spirits, but ah, they do not. it is the other way around.
he tilted his head to one side, watching her with a bemused smile birthing into existence slowly upon his lips, the crowning glory of a playful pastime suddenly made dark with tension.
"We co-existed peacefully before."
Was he still playing? Or .. did he actually believe in witches, and whatever other Lecter-spectres there were? His peculiar smile sent a shiver up her spine, and Bazi took a cautious step away, suddenly aware that they were completely alone - in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night.
A few tense, strange seconds ticked by. Then, without a word, Bazi fled into the forest. She was visible for a long, long time.