Serpent Lake go for the throat
feather heart
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#1
All Welcome 
set a few days after this thread. vague for reasons. for nanowrimo If You Can Dodge a Wrench weekly challenge & utilizing the bwp illnesses.

a violent shiver ripples down scarab's spine, wracking his body. it is sudden and though he knows it is cold — though perhaps a bit warmer than it's been in a few days despite that the night just gave birth to dawn — he is hot. heat lingers in his face, and if he didn't have fur and was capable of it his cheeks would be bright red. as it is, he pants like it's ninety degrees outside despite that each push of breath of from his body curls into steam the writhes into the air before dissipating. for a second, he pauses fearing that the tremble in his steps is more quakes from the upset earth. but the earth has been quiet for many weeks now and he realizes that the trembles are from him. his body trembles with each shiver and he suddenly feels unsteady on his legs.

a fuzzy, funny feeling settles in his head and he lets out a low whine of uncertainty, unaware that he is plagued with a high fever. he creeps towards the bank of the lake thinking that perhaps a drink of the cool water might help but with each small step scarab takes: it looks so far away and his energy depletes unfairly quick. his shoulders sag and he plops down on the hard ground, curling in on himself as he shivers — cold and hot at the same time and closes his eyes. maybe, scarab thinks, if he rests his eyes for a few moments he can restore enough energy to make it to the lake's bank.

nanowrimo: 268
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#2
Unbeknownst to Rajani, she had just entered the Teekon Wilds. It probably wouldn't have been something she cared to know anyway. But something she probably would've liked to have known was that the lands she had just entered were currently plagued by famine, disaster, and disease. The little goddess was already painfully bony looking by nature; a famine wasn't exactly going to be easy on her. But, having just arrived here, she was still unaware of the unfortunate events taking place. 

Therefore when she was pacing by the river that fed into the lake, and spotted a figure acting strangely not too far away, she paused and watched. From this distance she was unable to tell the gender of the creature- but it was a warmly colored wolf whose fur was a lovely hue. Rajani stared as they stumbled, trembled, shivered, collapsed. The kid's eyes closed and Rajani wondered to herself Has it fallen asleep right here? She paced her way towards it quickly, curiousity taking control, stopping a few yards away. Now she was confident the kid was a male. "What is wrong with you?" She spoke to him bluntly in a neutral tone, careless as to whether she had disturbed his slumber, or whatever it was he was doing.
feather heart
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as scarab slipped into a light sleep the fever rages on. each quake of his body brings a dual mixture of cold and hot and a sickening ache to his body, different from the ache of the bruises. not far enough in his rem cycle to actually dream he is stirred from uneasy slumber by a sharp and blunt voice. what is wrong with you? it asks. he shifts, lifting his head, blinking lapis lazuli eyes glassed with fever at the ebony shape. he half expected her to have eye sockets with coal glow. she does not speak with the voice of legion nor does she resemble the dead that visits him in his dreams. well, not entirely, he thinks.

she is certainly bony enough to be the ghoul of his dreams. staring her down, feeling what tiny figment of energy he's managed to recoup waning, scarab suddenly and fiercely wishes for maegi and erzulie. he should not've strayed so far knowing that he did not feel all that well to start. another violent shiver wracks the deathreaver's body as he realizes that he hasn't actually answered the demanding woman. i don't know. the plagued golden prince admits.

nanowrimo: 201
it's a quality of the gods
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#4
A set of strikingly blue pupils met Rajani's purple gaze. The boy's eyes seemed to be glazed over. It reminded her of how her ill sister had looked when they were little. Before Rajani had eaten her. She shooed the thought away, but decided that the boy likely had a similar problem. Set in the belief in her own godliness and power, she approached the boy closer, as if she was immune to sickness. 

It took the kid a moment to answer, a moment in which she wondered if he was braindead, before he finally spoke up. "i don't know." The yearling felt some pity for him in that moment. He seemed pathetic- suffering from something, unaware of what it was or how to cure it. She was silent for a long moment before she spoke again. "If you lie here too long, vultures will come pick you apart." It was a little cold, but it was her best attempt at being kind to the stranger, by giving him a word of warning. She was not an evil deity; she believed that maybe if she was kind to him he could even become her follower.
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scarab fights through another bought of shivers that rock his body, refusing to uncurl much of himself but his head to look at her. as it is, it's something of a struggle to lift it up — especially when he just wants to sleep; but their staring contest gave scarab the impression that she didn't intend on leaving anytime soon. his assumption thus far appears to be right as she speaks cold words in a tone that is utterly apathetic. if that was meant as words of encouragement ...she was awful at it.

as it was, scarab musters enough energy to give her an unabashed roll of his eyes. for a long moment he's torn between how to respond: thinking yeah, so what? might be a good line to use but that pointing out the fact that vultures only eat the dead might also be good too. regardless, her apathetic nature prickles at him and he wonders if its because it's similar to his own. that's a real great pep talk. the plagued golden prince deadpans scathingly. let them come, arrogance speaks thru him, as if he were a vessel for the very worst of his personality traits in that moment. at least it'd be a decent meal.

we'll play the game of who can eat who first. he snorts, gritting his teeth together as another shiver ripples down his spine. and because she doesn't seem too keen on leaving, lest as far as scarab can tell he asks while she remains in his insufferable company: aren't you afraid of catching whatever plague i have?

nanowrimo: 272
it's a quality of the gods
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and be unmoved —
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#6
Rajani watched as the kid rolled his eyes at her comment. His bit of sarcasm annoyed her but she wouldn't let it show, although she thought to herself You're lucky to even be in my presence, boy. She found his carelessness intriguing.

When the boy said it'd be a decent meal, she wasn't sure if he was referring to himself or the birds- but her tongue slipped out her mouth to lick her lips slightly. How interesting that she had tried wolf and not vulture. When she had devoured her twin she hadn't fully understood how wrong it was- but by the time she did understand, she was not repulsed by it. She would probably do it again someday and this boy seemed to be somewhat apathetic to his condition. But she would not do anything presently; they were having conversation now and she wasn't that barbaric. 

When he asked if she was afraid of his iillness, she tilted her head before slowly shaking it side to side. "I can promise you I won't catch whatever you have." She guaranteed. Of course it wasn't true, she was surely at risk. But Rajani was a delusional girl, thanks to the beliefs she was raised by. She was absolutely confident that she would be immune.
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the slip of her tongue across her jowls does not go unnoticed by scarab but though he takes note of it he does not capitalize upon it. he has no reason to assume that it was for anything else other than the mention of vulture. birds weren't his go-to meal but as a begger he wasn't in much of a position to be choosy about what his next meal would be. famine, like survival, was far from kind. her words of not catching whatever plagues him and the slow shake of her head in a gesture he recognizes as 'no' is enough to cause a near-hysterical bubble of laughter to rise in his throat.

she was already exposed and though scarab couldn't be sure he was willing to bet his next meal that he was still contagious. yet, she sounded so sure of herself that in a fever addled moment of foggy uncertainty he couldn't help but wonder what if she's right? what if this wasn't just an illness, he suddenly frets, what if it was a sign? what's happening to me? he demands of her suddenly, uncurling like a cat and making a weak attempt to stand. was it witch magic? was it connected to the phantom in his dreams? if you can't catch it then ...what? he asks, shivering again. what is it? scarab asks in a fevered rapid-fire, never once stopping to consider that she had meant she was immune in lieu of it being specific to him.

nanowrimo: 257
it's a quality of the gods
to see a creature with its back broken
and be unmoved —
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#8
When the boy asked urgently of her "what's happening to me?" , Rajani felt a similar laughter rise in her as well, though she suppressed it. He seemed nervous and delusional in his sickness. His attempt to stand looked unstable, and once again she pitied the ill wolf. She decided to play with him, building off her belief in her own godliness. "I'm immune. It's a demon in your soul that has cursed you into sickness. If you don't exorcise it I believe it will weaken you further." She lied easily. She kept her neutral tone well in an attempt to convince him.

Of course it was a risk to play off such superstitions; she had no idea if the boy believed in demons. In fact she thought he probably didn't, as most wolves did not. But she waited eagerly for his response as a cruel playfulness in her heart was excited. Hopefully he was gullible. In truth she had no idea what his sickness was or how to help him, so why not mess with him a bit?
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i'm immune... her words snake through the thick fog of uncertainty borne from the fever that burns him from the inside out — another shiver ripples along scarab's spine as if to remind him. a demon? the word sits meaningless in his mind, unable to connect what it is. not because of fever but because he's never heard of a demon before. while he's aware that maegi follows some sort of religion he still isn't familiar with terminology. the way the stranger speaks of exorcism, however, he can deduce that a demon is like a monster. for a brief moment, the phantom of his dreams flashes in his mind's eye but he chases it away.

scarab already knows he was a monster long before this fever.

can't be, he protests in another shiver. i was a monster long before ...this...this. he fumbles for a word to call the fever that wracks havoc on his body currently but falls short. a wave of frustration riles him, furrowing his brow and curls his lips back from his teeth for a moment. if you can't help me then just leave. scarab growls at her, his patience waning thin with each violent shiver that causes his body to tremble.

he isn't terribly far from fairspell meadow ...if he could just muster enough energy to stagger his way there he could get actual help.

nanowrimo: 235
it's a quality of the gods
to see a creature with its back broken
and be unmoved —
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#10
Rajani's cool gaze remained unmoving on Scarab as a shiver ran through his body again. When the boy claimed he had been a monster for long before, Rajani's eyes widened. On one hand, she wanted to laugh at that. But on the other hand, she only half disbelieved him; superstition was a weakness for her; and so she took just the slightest shift backward away from the kid, just in case.

When the monster boy growled at her, her eyes narrowed in annoyance with him. "If there is a way I can help you, I will gladly oblige. I have pity for you. Otherwise I will give you my blessing and leave you to live or rot." She informed him in response to his proposal that she leave. Rajani was telling the truth, she was willing to do a favor. She did not see it as an act of service to him- she saw it as an act of her own kindness, something he would be lucky to receive. In her mind, he should have been grateful for her offer.
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scarab's gaze watches as she shifts slightly away from him. it was a minuscule movement and in the fever fog he isn't sure that he actually saw it but after a few seconds of closer examination she does appear to be a tiny bit further away from him; and suddenly, without warning, scarab feels the power from that. it is short lived, of course, for whatever small boost of energy that small moment gives him is rapidly and mercilessly consumed by the fever. while scarab supposes the woman thinks she's being kind, he just finds her talking in circles to him. he needs help — medicinal, probably — and all she wants to give him is blessings? he scoffs.

i don't want no exorcism or blessing or whatever. i want real medicine — it doesn't occur to scarab that she may not know anything about healing ...and when it does — in a delayed spark — his patience has also all but been consumed by the fever ( though, to be fair it's always been a bit thin ). whatever, he huffs. leave me to rot. scarab snaps though takes his own advice and turns, gritting his teeth with determination to make it back to fairspell meadow.

this fever wouldn't kill him. he was the deathreaver, he thinks. if he was going to die it would've been in the cave-in or the merciless toss and pull of the sea.

nanowrimo: 245
it's a quality of the gods
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and be unmoved —
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#12
if hes going to react to that we can continue, if not we can wrap it up here if thats ok with you? :D thanks so much for the thread!

The boy denied her blessing- and her eyes narrowed, forehead wrinkling with her annoyance. Fine. He could be ungrateful, it was his loss. When the boy suggested real medicine, Rajani remained silent. She didn't know the first thing about medicinal herbs or healing in general. Of course she wasn't going to say that, so instead she just listened as he continued. And suggested that she leave him to rot. She could tell his patience was thin from his huffs, his snappy answers. 

"Fine, boy. It's your funeral." She took one more look over him, sizing up how weak he was. Deciding he seemed too weakened to make any effort against her, she spat disrespectfully at the ground by his feet, before making her way in the direction she came from, without looking back.
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#13
it doesn't occur to scarab that he's being rude — disrespectful to whatever faith the woman follows as he scoffs and turns a cold shoulder to her beliefs and offer of blessing. he may not have believed in any deity aside from, perhaps, whatever god ruled over the domain of the dead, but it gives him no right to be so flippant regardless of how unwell he felt. regardless, that doesn't occur to him either. he focuses only himself. what he feels, what he believes.

fortunately ( for him, perhaps ) he was too weak to retaliate as she spits at him. he turns around sharply, too fast, and is overcome with a wave of dizziness. his lips curl back from his teeth as she turns her back on him. i better never see you again, indignant and insufferably rude golden prince that he was says, hot from fever and anger ( even though he deserves it ), at her retreating form: if i do i'll eat you. dead or alive. he snarls hotly, choosing the most threatening thing he could think of.

for what was more terrifying then the thought of being eaten by a monster ...dead or alive? it was an excessive punishment for a minor transgression but he burning with fever and acting like the petulant child he was. it was awful. an awful thing to say, an awful thing to imagine. yet, he did; and once more scarab is torn between knowing that he should feel shame and instead standing face to face with the realization that he wasn't ashamed.

nanowrimo: 264
it's a quality of the gods
to see a creature with its back broken
and be unmoved —