Sunday, July 22, 2007

it feels like now they've got me by the throat


She paces before his manse, snarling, pale furred tail whipping in the still night air. She stops, scenting the air, and snarls again--he's been here, yes, and not all that long ago, and never spoke a word to her.

I'll kill him. Best fighter in the kingdom or not, I will kill him, if he goes through with this and expects me to accept this with docile good will. I will not go easily into this bargain.

She paces, turning at precise ninety-degree angles, then turns again, following the line of the walls around to the back. Servants' quarters, traditionally, and here, she scents out the lad from the Eastern lands--this is how he'd gotten in, the demon behind his eyes driving him to enter the Raven's abode.

Thinks he can just hand me over, demon to demon agreeing, thinks I'll accept--he's got several other thinks coming.

Earlier, the sound of the demon within the Eastern lad cackling in her ear, describing meeting with her lost Raven, describing how he'd walked into his lair, and found the Eastern lad in his bed. Quite confused him, until the demon within had spoken, and reacquainted him with whom he actually spoke.

Does he honestly think I will agree to this? Does he honestly think my succubus will blindly go along? Does he really, truly, honestly think, not telling me is a good plan?

Not talking to me at all. Supposed to care for me. Supposed to want me back. Not supposed to make bargains with demons to give me away.

She stalks around his abode, carving her sigil into the lintel on his door. She glares, pressing her hand against the new carving. If he had any doubt, he'll be able to smell her now. She was here. And she was not best pleased. Snarling, she turns, walking back to the gypsies' camp, and from there down to the shore. She shifts into fins, and swims off. Mayhap the cool water will help her calm down.

Bastard. Half-Drow, thick-headed, overconfident, won't complete this deal without talking to me.

If he knows anything about women...anything about me...he'd better figure that one out.

She snarls as she moves for deeper, colder waters...maybe she'll find a shark. See how she fares with blood in the water. This morning...she's fairly sure she'd be the victor. It's something else to keep in mind...


turnerBroadcasting said...

this post is swimming with anger.

emillyorr said...


Well, so was the little phouka. :)