[The woman among the roots had demanded a sacrifice in exchange for the antidote to the poison creeping through their veins… and Hayame had given her one. The dryad asked for a life, and she had offered up a life.
Not hers. (And not with any consent from the other party- What entity required their sacrifice willing?)
But rather than freedom or relief from the poison she could feel gradually weakening her powerful body and creeping into her mind… she had been enfolded through the tree into another, different cage. She arrives like a tempest, hooves lashing out until she is free of the roots binding, moving her… and she arrives in front of a man, panting heavily, both sets of lungs heaving for breath, both hearts thundering in her ears. In the violence of whatever preceded her arrival and the violence of her resistance to the roots, the thin cloth tied over the left side of her face has gone askew, almost revealing the empty socket where a left eye had once been, leaving only raw (but not so raw that it could have occurred today) flesh and serum crusting on the fabric. Her long, ink black hair falls about her wild and chaotic, and the half-snarl on her face all too ready to become more than half reveals teeth far too sharp to match either human or equine parts.
More importantly, those teeth are stained crimson with blood just as bright as her new cagemate’s eyes. Not just her teeth. Blood stains her lips, drips down her chin and down her throat to splatter over her breasts and vanish between them. There were no weapons in her hand-
But she was a weapon. She did not need steel.
Disoriented by her forced relocation, her remaining eye rolls wildly until she establishes her location (another root cage), her new companion (a stranger, looking unarmed and eerily composed), but finally… What’s left of her gaze locks on him, her voice spilling rabid from her throat. He’s been waiting?]
You want to be my second offering so badly- ?
[Would it work if she made it two? Three? Four? Why hadn’t it worked- ? The answer is there, in the back of her mind, but she hasn’t stopped moving since she was first imprisoned… and the realization needs a moment to catch up.]
no subject
Not hers. (And not with any consent from the other party- What entity required their sacrifice willing?)
But rather than freedom or relief from the poison she could feel gradually weakening her powerful body and creeping into her mind… she had been enfolded through the tree into another, different cage. She arrives like a tempest, hooves lashing out until she is free of the roots binding, moving her… and she arrives in front of a man, panting heavily, both sets of lungs heaving for breath, both hearts thundering in her ears. In the violence of whatever preceded her arrival and the violence of her resistance to the roots, the thin cloth tied over the left side of her face has gone askew, almost revealing the empty socket where a left eye had once been, leaving only raw (but not so raw that it could have occurred today) flesh and serum crusting on the fabric. Her long, ink black hair falls about her wild and chaotic, and the half-snarl on her face all too ready to become more than half reveals teeth far too sharp to match either human or equine parts.
More importantly, those teeth are stained crimson with blood just as bright as her new cagemate’s eyes. Not just her teeth. Blood stains her lips, drips down her chin and down her throat to splatter over her breasts and vanish between them. There were no weapons in her hand-
But she was a weapon. She did not need steel.
Disoriented by her forced relocation, her remaining eye rolls wildly until she establishes her location (another root cage), her new companion (a stranger, looking unarmed and eerily composed), but finally… What’s left of her gaze locks on him, her voice spilling rabid from her throat. He’s been waiting?]
You want to be my second offering so badly- ?
[Would it work if she made it two? Three? Four? Why hadn’t it worked- ? The answer is there, in the back of her mind, but she hasn’t stopped moving since she was first imprisoned… and the realization needs a moment to catch up.]