Kintla Flatlands dies irae, dies illa

the rabbit screamed as they seized upon it.

a quick scream, though, cut off by the neat little snap of its vertebrae separating; haruspex knew what they were about. they stood, chest heaving, silent for an instant, the hare hanging limp from their jaws.

then, they set it upon the plains, and set to work. carefully prying open the furry abdomen, fangs drawing a slightly jagged slit from ribs to privates.

guts rising before them, steaming on the air, even on a tepid late summer day.

haruspex clutched the rabbit by its nape once more and shook it with care, rhythmically, letting the entrails fly wherever they should go. blood flecked their muzzle; their eyes were shut tight against the spatter, and did not open again until the body felt much lighter and nothing more was to be found.

the corpse, they set aside with care. but their eyes were only for the intestines, looping, whorling, spilling out upon the ground.

they slithered toward the northeast. hawkish eyes rose in that direction, surveyed the horizon, broken up by tall, angular crags.

mountains. so be it.

haruspex took a deep breath, their shoulders rising, slowly, then falling again. time to eat.

what a thing the last weeks had been!
neither hide nor hair of the saints had turned up again. phay-row had taken the moment to declare themselves an independent nation. maggie was pleased with the way things had turned out, though more than once the beauty had considered going off to kynareth herself, sampling more of those wares, and offering to be eyes and ears in the mesa.
ram had won out with what was on offer.
maggie trotted through the flatlands, keeping within sight of the mesa. soon they'd be a proper place, though she suspected with colder weather coming, culls would be harder to find.
speak of the devil. "hey!" she called out toward the bonny figure. the air was a freshet of blood. she approached and wet her lips with an impressed chuckle. "ain't nothing like a spot o' 'untin', innit sir?" the lovely girl brayed in her thick backwater accent. "yer awfully close to akashingo, however."

pale, as a ghost. she approached. haruspex watched her with solid gold eyes, waiting for her to get close enough—

she spoke before expected. a hunter. their kind was. born to be. but she didn't understand. haruspex chuckled, and then straightened at the unfamiliar word. akashingo? they voiced, and their tone was cold and hard as january wind.

she was beautiful, and a sentry for something much harder. haruspex stiffened, fearing, and then leaned hard upon their left side and rolled upon the entrails.

corpus mecum, corpus mecum.

hot and tangy, the blood rose above them. she sucked in deep, fast breaths, fearing—

this one had eyes like rich gold coins. maggie was immediately enamoured with the wealth promised by the stranger.
akashingo, she would have repeated, had not the figure fallen and wallowed in the poor creature's guts. the beauty screwd up her delicate features in distaste. "the home where i serve my lord, an' others serve him as well. a pleasure-'ouse," the coyote dared with a simmering grin, interested despite the gore dripping from the stranger's coat.
"suppose 'e says this kill belongs to him in 'is realm? suppose yew've a debt now, mm?" she did not come closer.

no words roused them except 'debt.' at that, they rose, golden eyes fixed upon the stranger, unblinking, questioning. no debt, haruspex said, shaking their head slowly. none. do you. . .wish to see your future?

they stare at the entrails. they were scattered toward the east, but whole. still fine for future-telling. haruspex's eyes cut toward the girl, appraising.

they have no debts. no lords. no obligations. if this lass wishes to see her fortune, then so be it.

her eyes widened a bit, and she backed on small paws. "there's always a debt," she told them with a little frown. in the next moment she had adopted the former teasing leer, and looked slowly over the figure as if to take their measure and mettle.
"you show me my fortune, an' we'll consider yer it settled. anythin' after is a gift." maggie hooted a bawdy laugh, but quieted, looking toward the sooth-sayer to see what they might say next.

they shook their head. perhaps, but the debt does not lie with me, they replied, and then nodded toward the guts. roll, as i have. the way the guts lie will decide your fate.

she is very worldly, and not in the positive sense. very of this world, haruspex thinks. and perhaps. . .not long for it? the ones who came across so tied to the earth tended not to last. still, only flesh would tell.

roll, they once again commanded. their golden eyes were fixed firmly on the young woman's.

"yew want me to roll in that stinkin' offal?" maggie's tone was taken aback. she scowled openly at the would-be cull, shaking her head. 
and then she stopped, and looked slyly at the figure. for a moment the goldcoin of the gaze burning back at her turned the ice of her own to smoke. "fine, then," maggie retorted, and threw herself across the beast.
she swore, but true as dirt rolled back and forth until her shoulders and one flank were stained a brilliant, steaming red.