Ravensblood Forest light of my life, fire of my loins [m]

keeping vague about ic joining thread since it hasn't happened yet derp

“”

It occurred to the shaman, when his muzzy gaze sharpened, that he had died. And while his belly tightened at the prospect — he had not yet given Sos the sacrifice of sacrifices — a thin ribbon of pleasure wheedled its way into his heart. But no; the dead were not scarred, nor did they hiss in venomous tones. “Lethe,” he grit at length, though his eyes shone with vague mockery at Jinx's jealousy.

“Bon Dye is no more. I thought that you would have followed in Koios' steps.” By which he believed she had thrown herself away, though for reasons he himself did not fully understand; Siku had slain the man, it was said, but despite the strength of the hated bear-woman, he had known the cunning and savagery of Jinx's father.

Anger burned slowly within him as he beheld the scarring to her visage, which did not mar, but rather enhanced the innocent glow that the Kesuk carried despite her savagery. There had been a change wrought in her, and he sensed the touch of the Dark One, but met her eyes in silence.

For a rift had also grown between them in his absence; Lecter felt at once obligated to assure Jinx that he had not abandoned her, and that he had been justified in his departure. Drawing strength from her presence, as he always had, the shaman gathered himself to his feet and lashed his tail catlike at his heels as the quintessential glaciality of his gaze regarded her.

“Jinx,” the madman murmured softly, the verve of her eyes melting the resolve in his own. And the syllable of her name; it was as honey and myrrh upon his tongue, and the strong young body that had finally gathered itself into vague curvature set his heart aflutter. She had retained the long-limbed litheness of her youth, however, and for a moment she glowed with the past image of her earnest childlike self.