Starglow Basin bruja,

@Eset , @Soto

the basin was alive only with the soft murmurs of the wind as it whispered through the jagged rocks. shadows loomed heavy, cast by the pale light of the waning moon. it was the dead of night when saya returned, her lithe frame moving like a phantom through the uneven terrain.

atop her shoulders lay the weight of her prize, the unconscious form of eset. saya's steps were deliberate, her lavender eyes gleaming with a cold satisfaction. the hollow loomed ahead, a dark and yawning pit that served as a prison for the unlucky. without ceremony, she stopped at its edge, shifting her burden before letting eset’s body slide from her shoulders and fall heavily into the hollow below.

the sound of the impact was dull, swallowed by the oppressive quiet of the night. saya straightened, brushing an invisible speck from her shoulder. she tilted her head back, her thin muzzle parting to release a long, low howl that cut through the stillness like a blade. the call was for soto, a summons to witness what she had delivered.

her lips curled into a shadow of a smile, satisfaction gleaming in her eyes as she waited. the witch had fulfilled her promise. now it was time to see how soto would reward her efforts...hopefully.

it’s one of those lean nights where the quiet swallows everything and the world seems steeped in the gospel of some earlier epoch; where time has perhaps not galloped ahead so long, and the rise of life was still in its first nascent breath. 

a howl; soto turns from lookout point and down towards the sloping plains. the moon here so threadbare his feeble shadow dances before him. 

he finds saya with company. his gaze turns to the slumped shape below her, noting the glitter of pride in saya’s gaze. la bruja? he confirms, studying the lithe form of their captor and noting not for the first time that this coven of women seemed to spring all from the same clade; as if there were an archetype they must follow before they took the first harrowing step to becoming witch.

her grin was sharp as broken glass, glinting under the weak moonlight. eyes gleamed with a mix of mischief and pride, the shadows of the night deepening the hollowed contours of her sharp face. she dipped her head ever so slightly, a theatrical nod as she relished the confirmation.

sí, she purred, her voice a low, dangerous melody. la bruja.

her gaze flicked to the slumped figure below her, a lazy wave of her tail brushing the ground as if to underline her prize.

saya moved with the deliberate grace of someone fully aware of their power, her movements almost serpentine as she returned her gaze to him.

¿qué harás con ella?

Her gasp is guttural, buried in a dry leather throat that scrapes for air.

The sound carries. A cave. There are voices. Home, she thinks.

Eyes open to darkness; darkness, and pale lavender. Darkness, and a single yellow sun that festers with too much familiarity.

Skittering; mumbling, tender paws clutch for even ground, chest coiling with a scream she has no power to release.

Soto.

GUESS WHO GETS MY FIRST LAPTOP POST?? U GUYS DO!!! *maniacal cackling*

saya's silken tail flutters as if to say behold, and soto does;

he leans down towards that skittering figure. she lifts her foxish face into the waning moonlight with a gasp. there is a shadow that runs the length of her fraught forehead before it dances into the bleeding blackness of her half-obscured face; a face soto knows.

is it truly her?

he grunts as he rises and in that singular eye glowers an awful entity of knowing. saya has done better than she could hope but her question remains ignored. he is picturing the blood on the cell; he is picturing the grub; he is picturing the long, slender shape of something truly hideous while juarez and nino remain startlingly silent.

all soto can think of is the callous indifference shown by this witch as her captain flailed soto. starved him. beat him. bound him and gagged him and trundled him and --

bueno. he jerks his head to where qiao was kept but the burn of his golden eye remains steadily on eset. conseguir a la bruja.

saya steps forward without a word, her presence fluid and deliberate. her gaze shifts to qiao, unyielding as steel, and her movements are smooth as she obeys soto’s command. the flick of her tail betrays no emotion—no hesitation, no fear, only the precise intent that has always defined her.

her grip finds the witch, firm but not unkind. she pulls qiao upright, her own expression blank as stone, offering no commentary nor judgment. saya knows better than to speak in this moment, the weight of soto’s history with the witch evident in the tension that lingers like a storm on the horizon.

silent, saya moves, guiding qiao where she must go. the air around them is heavy, thick with something unspoken but palpable. whatever this reunion is meant to be, she remains the executor of soto’s will, her role clear, her silence louder than any words she might offer.

the days pass by, many — qiao marking each of them with a line in the sand. she is kept under watch, but her treatment is not unkind — still, it does nothing to ease the resentment she felt towards her captors.

when saya appeared qiao rose, noting the serene blankness of her guard’s features. on some hidden wind the overworld chittered — weaving a song of danger.

herded towards some unknown destination, qiao’s eyes widened as she saw just who it was slumped in the sandstone.

eset. it was then the song of danger became a roar and qiao knew the woman’s purpose here was to see her line ended.

she hissed and suddenly wheeled on her captors, fangs bared as she reached for soto.

The single, refulgent fire glares.

It burns. It recognizes.

Eset shivers. She remembers  how she had endorsed his suffering. How she conceded to his torture. Her order as hebsut could have killed him, or freed him—

But she had used her power to hurt; to squelch him in the same poison as his victims. In her poison. The knowledge manifests as bile beneath her tongue. Here is where it would commence. Here, where there are no voices, and only prices.

Her rasping follows listlessly after the silverwoman, “Please, Sontana– he– he will kill me.”  Eset’s brain swells against the interior of her skull. Did she deserve it? Did he predict her death? For a moment there is only empty darkness between she and he. Then when the woman returns, it is with another captor. A coyote–

Qiao?

Something snaps inside the hemet. She knows what Eset does not. It is enough to spur the half-coy to her own feet. She scrambles. Qiao bares her teeth, and Eset too lunges with fangs meant for Soto.

by the time soto realizes these two bitches know each other, it is too late. 

his single eye widens as the crone comes for him, a streaking blur of red and the sickly smell of rot and dust. 

he drops his shoulder so the crone can find no entry, trusting that saya would do her part to subdue her. 

it is now the fairer witch that earns his attention. in another life, he might have fallen for her as he did marciela — but the sorrow corrupting her gaze reminds him bitterly of his past disappointments, and he rises to meet her with a clash of teeth all too ready to enact vengeance for the disabuse he’d been subject in the cellars to under eset’s indifferent eye.

let me know if you want me to change anything! went off some assumptions.

qiao lunged, but saya was faster. a silver blur, she intercepted with precision, her shoulder slamming into the crone’s side. qiao staggered, claws scrambling for purchase, but saya’s jaws snapped around her scruff, firm and unyielding.

the coywolf thrashed, growling and snapping, but saya held her in place, a low growl rumbling from her chest—a warning. only when qiao stilled did saya release her, stepping back with fluid control.

her cold gaze flicked to soto briefly before settling on qiao, sharp and watchful. no words needed.

She pursues the sun with teeth, a single illuminant to be torn from existence, never again to look upon Safiya, nor spread its ugliness to the world. But the feckless woman lunges for her ally and Eset is compassed in battle bent jaws, put to rout against stone by the man who knew how to disarm. In the dim light she hears her breathing rupture and feels the scouring tangle of his limbs. She falls face to rock and endures his trounces, muffling snarls until they die out and her mind is shaken away.

The moon would be bright over Muat-riya tonight. The sound of water would be soft lapping. She would be smiling at her. A single day or two— that’s all I've had of you. We’ll never know what comes next. I'll never be able to tell you—

Tears like rime smear her vision, she has no other part of play now but the coward, surrendering to Soto’s rush, fatigued, pliable— desperate. “I— I will speak with Pharaoh. I will call off the attacks. I will do what you want. Anything you want.”

“Please. Please,” her wet eyes beg as much as her voice.

I want to live.

Lmk if anything needs changed please!

She was supposed to have vengeance! Supposed to have a big old story with a fat ending and one that went down in the best flames ever. Stupid Eset. Stupid Eset, couldn't do nothing without getting in trouble. Boohoo! Wah-wah! Now stuck with a stick in the mud and her supposed-to-be new boyfriend. Was that the Hebsut's plan? Make her lonely? Take one of her boyfriends? Again? Legend tried to picture Senmut's handsome face on Soto to make herself change her mind. Didn't work.

Annoying! Stupid! Supposed to be better! Now Eset sits there making her feel all bad for watching and not acting! Getting all pathetic and sad and crying out with that dumb annoying voice saying, save me, save me! How pathetic!

All Eset was trying to do was ruin her new good thing with her stupid sad face and desperate pleas. It was on purpose. It was all woes and bitchy groans. Sitting there with her cries. Trying to make her feel guilty. Legend felt no guilt!

She lurked from a long distance, taking in the sweet taste of a different kind of revenge. How did it feel to be below the masses again, Eset?

qiao’s lot was magicka, not fighting. before her teeth could ever find their mark she was handily repelled by the backbiting she-wolf behind her, pulled down and pressed to the ground in a matter of seconds. 

you — she struggled to right herself, a guttural hiss slithering from her clenched teeth as her neck stung with the pain of saya’s raking teeth. 

by now she knew the seconds of her life were thinning; the lovely moon tonight would shine and she would not have eyes to see it. 

if soto had his way. 

but qiao had never been in the business of making men’s lives easier. as a slick of blood routed down her throat, she watched the man fight her struggling coven-sister, murmuring a small haka between her teeth. the invocation of life, the calling of aid of the thousand fangs of the overworld — a spell that would take from her own life sources, and likely — 

she did not wait for the jaws of death to come to her. qiao, drenched in the red dress of her own lifeblood, turned upon her captor with tooth and claw. 

go, eset! run, you stupid girl - qiao sent in a powerful burst of thought before the full of her attention turned to distracting their captors.

slight pp to set this in motion, lmk if not ok <3

in the endless depths of soto’s single blackened pupil, juarez sat; a panther looming over the head of his prey. 

soto lunged for eset as bedlam sounded behind him. and though he was rough and sought to rattle her, it was never his intention to kill her. splindly as she was, she’s so much more useful alive. 

her teeth scrape his jaws and a new puncture adds to his collection of marred skin. when she at last relents he stands over her tall as the jaguar thundering for blood in his head, panting.

placing his front limb upon the small of her back, soto listens for anything in her cries he might recognize. he did not need to know her tongue to know she begs now for her life — a satisfaction he refused to give either her or khusobek back in the cells. 

no. soto snarls between gasps of adrenaline punching breaths, roughly shoving into eset’s thin shoulder blades. he looks to saya and the crone now, pushing eset’s tear stained face towards them. matarla. he commands, thrusting eset towards the downed crone. 

a sickening fulfillment began to spread its oilslicked hands within soto. while chaos upends around him, this was his element — misery, blood, disorder — and his blood sings with fierce vindication to at last see the cartel’s pugilistic brand of grisly justice come full circle.

in this moment of heightened pride and hungry anticipation, soto fails to see a fox-faced figure in the shadows watching it all.

let me know if anthing needs to be changed!

saya moved swiftly, her steps purposeful and sharp as she closed the distance to qiao. a shadow in motion, her teeth bared, catching the pale light of the moon as her muscles coiled and released with lethal precision. her weight drove into the crone’s slender frame, pressing her to the ground with an almost mechanical force.

you should have stayed out of this, saya hissed, her voice low and venomous, the edge of a blade hidden beneath silken steel.

qiao struggled beneath her, but saya’s grip was firm, her claws digging into the thin skin of her captive’s sides. she leaned in, her muzzle dangerously close to qiao’s ear, but her gaze remained fixed on soto, awaiting further instruction, her body a taut bowstring ready to release its fury. the faint flicker of blood on her teeth caught the light, a wicked grin playing at the edges of her lips.

she said nothing more, only exerted the kind of control that spoke of a wolf who had mastered her place in the fray. she would not kill—not yet. there was more to see, more to savor in the chaos unfolding around her.

She is forced forward, thrown onto the ground where Qiao lay bleeding. Soto melds with the dark but she can hear his order, a deep rasp from a hateful throat. 

Eset licks her lips and shakes her head, “I don’t— I don’t understand.” She trembles and coldness runs down her back. Suddenly she feels it everywhere, her soul answering in horror to what her mind does not understand.

Why? Why doesn’t he kill them? What does he want with them?

“Qiao,” she hears herself whisper, inching forward to look into the swell of green eyes, but she has to stop the shaking hand from reaching out to comfort the hemet.

pressed between gritty earth, qiao winced.  saya's breath steamed against her ear, her voice purling with a threatening hiss.

pain arced between her shoulderblades as the woman's nails dug deeper into skin, the greenbriar torc on her neck pulling so tight it caused her to nearly choke. qiao struggled, her burning gaze kept on the man.

this was not the will of the overworld; it hissed in her ears. for all her divining of the overworld's whims, qiao had failed to account for simple masculine stupidity. and here was a man now, perhaps dumber even than khaba.

now that the long years of her life were funneling into minutes, qiao wished she had done things differently. she wished she had cut him down at their first meet. she wished she had saved ruenna. she wished she had taken the child owed to her. she wished her carefully laid plans had seen their fruition sooner; she wished to have moved faster --

and lastly she wished she had not cut eset into her coven's bloodfold. gazing into those compassionate eyes, qiao saw her end reflected back in them.

jostled forward, qiao set her face in a determined grimace. to muat riya's ward, the crone bared her yellowed fangs. do it. she urged, feeling the wind stir around her bare throat. do it, and do it quick.

this is taking too long.

each second the witch lives is another curse lobbed on verapaz. soto can sense the withering in the air - the blackened magic curling around them.

he bristles besides saya, irritation hardening his single eye. he aims a rough kick at qiao's pinned body, turning back to eset with a grimace.

dile. he jerks his head at saya, motioning to eset with a curl of his gums in derision. dile que si mata a la bruja, se gana la libertad. un trato mejor que el que me dio esa perra.

saya’s lip curled, though her gaze was steady and predatory as she leaned closer to eset, her voice a whisper of venom.

listen well, girl. her words hissed into the air, deliberate, piercing through the tension.

he’s giving you a way out. a better deal than he was owed. her grip tightened just enough to make the weight of her words undeniable. you kill her— she motioned with a flick of her head toward qiao, her eyes narrowing into slits. and you’re free. no more chains, no more orders. you walk away.

with her tone dipping lower, as though she were tempting the woman with the forbidden fruit.

or don’t. stay a pawn, stay nothing. but if you hesitate too long...he won’t wait.

her gaze flicked to qiao briefly, cold and detached, before snapping back to eset, watching intently for her decision. the air between them thickened, charged with the weight of the choice being demanded.