Emberwood i: blood for blood

"blood for blood is best: to reward violence with a kiss is an act of fools."

a man had once told her that all beings were inherently sinful, from worms on up the food chain. one of his last sentiments. she agreed, though. they had engaged in a wonderful conversation of life and death, right and wrong. he was one of the smarter ones. she pitied taking his life--but he had his flaws, revealed so shortly before he spoke the words that ended him.

"women need men, and men need women. how will the species survive, otherwise?"

she had smiled at him, drawing her tongue along the velvety lobe of his ear. "we need only their seed, my dear, and nothing else," she explained patiently, as if trying to reason with a child. "but so many women believe they need to keep you around. soft-headed, weak-willed."

had she ever loved? Kaali had loved her mother, more than anyone else. and who had ripped her away? a man. . .who else? thieves, the lot of them. users, lechers, --

she stalks through the forest, verdant eyes cast straight ahead. the taste of blood quicksilver on her tongue, though she has not killed in some time. that scholar was the last, and it has been moons since. she feels a hunger in her bones, rooted into the marrow. an ache in her loins.

to avenge her mother would take time. or perhaps not. when would she be satisfied? must the whole world bleed before she can sleep at night?

she slips through the trees like a snake

looking for something with which to extend her belly.

caw has never been a creature of purpose or deliberation.
 
he moves through the woods perhaps because of a lack of anything better to do. the boredom prickles at the back of his mind, the unpleasant empty itch where something is missing. he does not normally need to walk terribly far to find something worthy of at least a little attention, but there are fewer and fewer of those that are not other wolves around and he has not had much luck crossing their trails lately. nor is he yet foolhardy enough to stride into pack lands.
 
he is not expecting to find much, which is not doing much for his irritable mood. none of it shows on his muzzle, exactly; his expression is placid, almost blank, even when his assumption begins to prove itself incorrect.
 
when he notices it the scent is faint enough that he almost ignores it, at first, and then when a few steps later it grows abruptly stronger that is what makes him pause. avis’ feathers rustle where she perches on his shoulder as he draws his muzzle back and cocks his head. there is something curiously predatory about the movement, perhaps in no small part thanks to the raw-blood gleam of his eyes, perfectly matching that of the bird on his shoulder. his nostrils flare and his tail sweeps eagerly against his legs as he draws his gaze across the surrounding brush, curious. waiting.

and then. movement in the trees, an unfamiliar scent. it interrupts Kaali's thoughts, cutting into her reveries of blood and of death, of vengeance successful and aborted. she stops, turning an ear. gaze darting around the woods.

a fiendish smile stretches her maw as her nose does the work for her--the scent is male, and close.

she licks her lips, slowly, slipping sinuously around the bend, where she sees various shades of gray in the shade of the brush, leaf-dappled. undoubtedly alive. she peers through the branches, eyes glittering with a silent greeting as she catches sight of the man--

a bird on his shoulder. how positively charming, and. . .a curious thing, for sure. to keep a morsel for a pet. it seems absurd, but at the same time, refreshing. what soul is this, that befriends other creatures?

Kaali pushes past the undergrowth to come face-to-face with the man, lifting her chin in greeting.

"hello, little bird." she speaks to the crow first, lips parted suggestively. then she turns to the brute, and she draws close, until she stands only a tail-length away. "hello, big wolf," she purrs, her voice almost childlike.

he is so close she can feel the blood pulsing in his throat

patience is a nebulous concept when it comes to caw, and before more than a few seconds have passed he is already shuffling around on his paws, casting his gaze to and fro as he waits for whoever it is to show themselves. because they are there, and caw is bored. avis gives a quiet cry on his shoulder, and he does not ignore her persay, but it...does not calm him either, precisely. nor is he calm when someone finally slips, quietly, from the trees.

for once, he is on the recieving end of someone completely ignoring his personal space. though of course, being caw, it does not bother so much as it excites as the woman slinks up to him, chin lifted as she greets avis.

that does raise caw's respect for her, such as it exists, quite a bit. crows are to be respected, addressed as one would a wolf. she is no bigger than he is, but the predatory part of him is forgotten for a moment beneath excitement and genuine curiosity. tail fluttering eagerly against his back legs, caw nudges curiously forwards, heedless of the teeth now perilously close to his nose or any thoughts she might be having of taking advantage of such a position -- though regardless he likely wouldn't care.

his head is still cocked to the side as he sniffs at her. if there is anyone here who can speak his mother tongue -- perhaps it would be her. politeness to avis is a good sign. "ave!" he chirps, thrilled by this unexpected discovery. "this. avis," he motions to the crow as best he can with his muzzle practically pressed up against the stranger, clicks his teeth together thoughtfully as he tries to piece the english together. "i am caw! who are?"

he gets very close--too close, almost--and takes in her scent, looking eager as one could be. he was talking, then. . .to his bird? or maybe to her. no, definitely to her now, as he looked at her while speaking, speaking in a slightly broken accent and asking for her name. the smile grows wider on her lips, and she pulls back an inch or two, just out of reach.

"who do you want me to be, Caw?" Kaali asks him cryptically, tail moving slowly and quietly behind her, a gentle, soundless metronome. synchronized in an almost perfect rhythm with the beat of her heart. she stretched, then, turning to expose the long lines of her body. giving him a sidelong glance, face shaded by the tree-shadows.

"i've heard that those birds can speak," she whispers, looking at Avis. she croons, deep in her throat. "what do you think, Avis?" saliva pools suddenly in her mouth. she is hungry for both the man, and his friend.

perhaps when he is dead, the bird will serve as an excellent post-coitus snack.

avis has always been far warier than caw is. and even now she does not seem particularly pleased with the situation despite the fact that caw can't figure out why she would not be -- few and far inbetween are the wolves who consider her anything other than decoration on his shoulder. but as the woman backs away just out of reach, her smile a sharp thing familiar for the number of times a similar expression has taken place on caw's own muzzle, avis caws loudly, feathers flaring as she leans down over his scruff. caw's ears twitch; he chirps a quick reassurance in latin that avis is also unimpressed by judging by the claws that fasten themselves into his skin, but he does not look at the crow, just keeps watching.

he follows her with a quick eagerness, and when she continues to step away, he pauses. blinks. moves, slowly, after her, and this time his steps are not so eager as predatory.

that eagerness has faded somewhat -- perhaps because of her own behavior. caw has always been something of a mirror when it comes to people; he finds himself mimicking, unconsciously, the slow flicks of her tail, the purposeful movements as she stretches out. his expression has not quite been a smile, yet, but now anything threatening to become one fades back into measured calmness, though the curiosity is still blatant in the gleam of his eyes. when she speaks again it is not latin, which would be a disappointment if he was not too drawn into the whole situation to bother.

"it matters?" caw questions. avis pointedly jabs her claws deeper into his skin, igniting a sharp flicker of pain that is certainly noticeable but makes him lean forward instead of drawing back. still -- he does not have any real answer to that. 

the next question, though -- "avis speaks," caw says. "crows speak to family! not for you." his lips twitch. "avis does not like you."

it is a mild way to put it. avis snaps her beak, gives him one last warning, and unhooks her talons from his fur, because -- she knows as well as he does that she can't actually stop him from doing anything if he is being particularly stubborn about it. he angles an ear in her direction as she launches off into the air, but he knows her well enough to know that, despite the fact that she is not pleased with him, she will not go far.

not a playful one, then. she firms her lips in a pout as he answers with a question, instead of a name, her eyes locked on him. she lets out a snort, too, as the bird makes its disapproval known, and he gives voice to it.

Kaali glances to the crow. fuck you, too, she thinks, imagining how its bones will crunch under her teeth.

like twigs underfoot.

"suit yourself," she says, not sure whether she's talking to the man or his pet. she returns her gaze to Caw, pout stretching into a smile once more. "i am Delilah."

Delilah the seductress, Delilah the charmer. Delilah does not murder--Delilah sings, dances,

makes love under the stars--

it is Kaali who does the killing, and it is Kumaari who is avenged.

she turns her head, taking a couple of steps closer to the man, ignoring the way his feathered friend glares at her from the branches. "are these your woods?" she asks, demurely looking down. "or are you just passing through, like me?"

caw watches her coolly, almost blankly, as avis takes wing. watches her eyes follow the crow, for a moment. his initial thrill -- at finding someone who would address avis -- has waned slightly, because avis does not want to even acknowledge her. avis does not like her, and usually avis has a point, as much as caw cheerfully ignores it. but that does not mean he is more careful now. all it means is that the excitement -- almost friendly, almost genuine, as genuine as caw ever gets -- has cooled back to something sharper, something aggressive.

"delilah," he parrots. it does not hold the usual singsong tone that repeated words often come with, when spoken from his mouth. it does not hold much inflection at all, in truth. he slinks forward, and almost as soon as he takes the first steps she mirrors him, and suddenly they are close enough that they are practically touching.

it does not bother caw, of course; it never does. it is odder to him to leave space between them, after all, and this way his teeth are close, and so are hers. this...he has a sense it is building to some sort of conflict, and that is exactly what caw seeks out these days. his tail flicks slowly against his legs, and his nostrils flare. a prickle of eager interest runs down his spine.

"are not mine," caw says. he lingers for a moment, and then turns, pacing a tight half-circle around her with slow, careless steps, a crow circling a scavenger, waiting for prey. close enough that their fur brushes when he moves. his eyes gleam like blood, like that of the bird in the trees. "passing through." his smile holds too many eager teeth. "until now."

thus transformed, Delilah smiles wide as he approaches closer, the two standing so near that electricity hums between them. the shimmer of a potential connection. it makes her salivate, slightly, and she blinks slowly, staring at him, as he answers.

not his woods.

passing through.

until now. . .

"oh, yes? have ye found something. . .interesting?" she asks, her voice melting into the Celtic drawl of her childhood. her father's words had been close-clipped, sharp, like a field of burrs. Kumaari's accent was different altogether, more sweet than anything. each word dripping like honey from her tongue.

his fur against hers lifts every hair on her pelt, and she resists a shudder, running her tongue over her teeth. she turns to look at him, emerald eyes glowing like torchlight in the dim forest.

she will not have his blood tonight. they part, each unscathed. it is a failure, on her part, but also a learning experience. perhaps she had come on too soon, or too strongly.

she will remember it, for next time.