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Children of a Lesser God
Famine: Paint It Black

Famine: Paint It Black

I hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on War and Death when they were in the stables. But I was already there before them, freshening up my own mount’s stall and let me tell you: there’s absolutely zero soundproofing between the stalls. I hear every word, and were I the gossiping type, this would absolutely be the hottest piece of gossip around. It’s also, without doubt, the most interesting thing that’s happened around here since...well, I don’t really know when.

A human that can see us? It’s too delicious not to pop down to Earth and take a look. Especially Joseon, home to my favourite spicy cold noodles. Ah, bibim guksu, how I adore thee.

Said human currently has his eyes on his phone, head bowed in respect to the mobile device. Small white earbuds are jammed into each ear, drowning out the world around him. They match the errant chunky white streaks in his black hair, a fashion statement I find both odd and adorable. Too bad he’s a boy, I sigh to myself. A girl would’ve been even cuter. He doesn’t even notice I’m there until he walks headlong into me, staggering back. I’m impressed: I thought for sure he would lose his balance.

“Apologies,” I say, holding out a hand in greeting, touching the other hand to opposite elbow in a mirror of what customs I remember from Joseon -- no...I believe it is called South Korea now. He reaches out reflexively to take it, and only once my fingers enclose his does he look up in surprise. I guess he didn’t expect it to be a lady who nearly knocked him to the ground. Silly human.

A growl rips up from his stomach, and I can’t help but laugh. I’ve never shaken a human’s hand, but I bet he’s suddenly really hungry, and it’s absolutely because of me. Oops.

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“Excuse me,” he apologizes with an embarrassed grimace and small bow of his head.

“Wow,” I giggle, “definitely not what I expected.”

That alerts him to the idea that something might not be normal about our interaction, because he pulls on his hand to take it from my grip. I let go; I’ve already gotten enough information about this odd human in but these few moments. I like him though; he’s like an adorable little puppy. I resist the urge to pat his curl-covered head. I get the feeling he might pass out from hunger if I do that, given how one handshake reduced his stomach to loud grumbles.

A musical chirp erupts from his phone; he looks down immediately to check it. That’s when I sense it: the feeling of being watched. The human looks back up from his phone and his lips part in surprise as his eyes slide past me. They open wider with alarm; I keep my smile fixed in place, searching the human’s dark eyes; I try to make out the details of the other shape reflected there. Something old and yet familiar stirs within me: the desire for violence. It’s been a long time since I was involved in a conflict, and it takes everything in me not to turn around and launch at the unknown figure. But if I turn around, whomever it is will know that I’m aware of their presence, and this stalking predator likely thinks I’m the unaware prey.

How wrong they are.

Another, almost equally as young-looking human comes out and wraps their arm around our human in a headlock. I use that moment to finally whip around, scales summoned to my hands, but find no one there. There is only the scent of aether and spice.

An archangel?

Well that’s more than a little curious.