“This dress is ruined,” Vivienne said with a rueful sigh. “My very first present, and now it’s all covered in delicious, yummy, scrumptious…” She paused, her grin widening as she looked down at the bloodstains on her clothes. “What was I talking about again?”
The guards, who had previously been on edge, had started to relax after hearing Rava’s name and rank. Apparently, the weight of the ‘Serkoth’ name carried some serious weight among them. Rava, however, had remained cryptic about herself, and Vivienne, ever the observer, hadn’t pressed the issue. In the short week or two they’d travelled together, she had learned just enough to get by—and that was enough for her.
One of the lekine guards, his fur bristling nervously as he eyed Vivienne’s latest snack, cleared his throat. “Lady Serkoth, are you sure that thing is safe? Have you tamed it?”
“Tamed?” Vivienne laughed, the sound unsettling in its otherworldly echo. “You’re going to put a collar on me, Lady Serkoth? Perhaps tell me I’m a good girl and give me treats when I behave?” Her voice, soft as velvet, was laced with a teasing, sinister edge. But it was the sound of bones snapping between her teeth that ruined the effect—the crunch cutting through the air with a sickening finality.
The guards froze, eyeing Vivienne with a mixture of fear and fascination. Her bloodstained form, her savage appetite, and the eerie, otherworldly way she moved—there was something about her that unsettled them deeply. Rava, standing at the edge of the group, sighed but said nothing. She had long since stopped trying to reign Vivienne in during these unsettling moments; the woman had a way of disturbing even the most seasoned warriors with her casual cruelty.
Rava pinched the bridge of her nose, her frustration rising. “Just… just ignore her,” she said, her voice strained. “She’ll only be a threat if you show her any hostilities.” She turned her head, her eyes hardening, gaze sweeping over the group of guards, as if daring them to challenge her words. “And I will be too.”
The guards nodded nervously, their posture tightening at the weight of her unspoken threat. They exchanged uneasy glances, each of them still watching Vivienne warily as she continued her gruesome feast, blissfully unaware—or perhaps uncaring—of the tension she was causing.
The older man, who had remained silent up to this point, stepped forward. He was the most senior among them, his face weathered and lined with years of battle. He cleared his throat, trying to regain some semblance of authority. “We need to report back to the clan that there’s increased aetherbeast activity,” he said, voice steady but lacking confidence. “Let’s get back home.”
He turned back to Rava, his lips pressing into a thin line as the unmistakable sound of a large bone snapping echoed through the clearing. Vivienne’s satisfied hum was almost too much to ignore, the sound of teeth grinding through bone somehow louder than the crash of distant thunder.
“Lady Serkoth,” the older man continued, a trace of hesitation in his voice as he flicked a nervous glance at Vivienne, “may we take our leave?”
Rava nodded curtly, her eyes never leaving the horizon, scanning for any sign of the aetherbeasts that might still be lurking nearby. She’d grown used to this—keeping one eye on her surroundings while the other was focused on Vivienne’s chaotic tendencies.
“Yes,” Rava said with a soft, almost imperceptible sigh. “Go ahead. We’ll follow.”
She turned toward Vivienne, her gaze already hardening as she prepared for the inevitable. But even she was shocked by what she saw: most of the bodies were gone, devoured or scattered in pieces across the blood-soaked ground. Only remnants remained—shredded bits of meat, crushed bones, and slick organs, all haphazardly strewn about like the aftermath of a storm. Less than an hour ago, this had been a battlefield; now, it was little more than a grisly feast for one.
“Viv,” Rava muttered, the edge of her voice betraying a mix of exhaustion and disbelief. “Let’s get going.”
Vivienne didn’t immediately respond, her attention fixed on a particularly large femur she’d retrieved from one of the aetherbeasts. She gnawed on it like a dog with a bone, the gristle and sinew twisting beneath her teeth as she chewed with relish, eyes half-lidded in contentment.
Rava shook her head, a sigh escaping her lips as she turned to continue walking. Vivienne fell into step beside her, an almost childlike energy in her movements despite the gruesome bone she was gnawing on. Her blood-soaked form barely seemed to register the weight of her actions, as though none of it had phased her in the slightest.
Rava’s eyes narrowed as they moved through the thinning snow of Greyreach Pass, the quiet chatter of the guards ahead still lingering in the air, though now muted. Their voices were heavy with unease, the occasional glance backward betraying their discomfort. Even with Rava’s reassurance, it was clear none of them could fully relax with Vivienne in tow.
The wind bit at her exposed skin, carrying the faint metallic tang of blood that clung to the air. The once-pristine snow was streaked with red and black, the aftermath of their battle a haunting trail behind them.
“Do you have to eat like that?” Rava finally asked, her tone more exhausted than accusatory.
Vivienne paused mid-step, her teeth sinking into the femur one last time with a loud crack before glancing at Rava. “What? It tastes good! Fantastic texture too,” she said, her grin wide and unrepentant. She tossed the bone aside, letting it clatter against the rocky path. “Besides, it’s not like anyone else was going to eat it. Waste not, want not.”
Rava’s expression tightened, her patience clearly wearing thin. “So,” she asked, her tone measured, “how long will that sate you?”
Vivienne hummed, her black, serpent-like tongue darting out to lap at a smear of aether-rich blood on her lips. The motion was both absent-minded and disturbingly deliberate. “They weren’t true aetherbeasts,” she replied, voice lilting with something too cheerful for the subject matter. “But I should be good for about a week. That said,” she added with a tilt of her head, “I’m never quite sated. You know how it is.”
Rava’s steps faltered ever so slightly. “What happens if you go hungry?” she asked, her voice quieter now, less confrontational and more concerned. “Can you... control yourself?”
Vivienne stopped entirely, her brows lifting in mock surprise. “What happens if you go hungry?” she countered, her tone thick with feigned innocence. “Can you control yourself?”
Rava frowned, refusing to rise to the bait. “I mean it, Vivienne. Is it dangerous—for others, for you—if you don’t feed?”
Vivienne’s playful demeanour dimmed slightly, her grin fading into something subtler, sharper. “Dangerous is relative, don’t you think?” she mused. “If I’m starving, I imagine everyone might feel a little unsafe. But isn’t that the case with most predators? When you’re hungry enough, you stop caring about manners.” She shrugged, her tone light again, as if discussing the weather. “I might go out and give people a bad dream here and there if I can’t find any aetherbeasts to nibble on, but I won’t cause too much trouble.”
“I suppose so.” Rava nodded in acquiescence.
Vivienne’s expression softened, then she gestured towards the guards, one of which was staring at her. “I can taste their fear, tell that it’s directed at me. I do want to eat their fear, but you don’t always eat what you want when you want do you? Even if it’s within reach? Sometimes one needs to watch their weight, or maybe it’s something you enjoyed in the past but shouldn’t eat now. Eating their fear now would put me in a politically disadvantageous position. I could wander off into the wilds if I wanted to, but I want to stick with you, for now at the very least.”
Rava’s eyes narrowed as she studied Vivienne, her posture stiffening. “You want to stick with me,” she echoed, her voice laced with scepticism. “For now, at least. And when ‘for now’ ends? What then?”
Vivienne tilted her head, her grin returning, this time laced with an eerie calm. “Then I suppose I’ll decide what to want next. Isn’t that how life works, Lady Serkoth?” Her dark eyes glinted with a hint of amusement. “Who knows, maybe you won’t be able to get rid of me.”
“Now that’s an awful thought.” Rava said with a quiet chuckle.
As they walked, the path ahead began to shift, the snow giving way to harder earth marked with well-worn tracks. The air grew warmer, the biting chill of Greyreach Pass softening into a crisp, invigorating breeze. Gradually, the landscape transformed into endless fields of tall grass, their golden-green stalks bending and swaying in unison like waves in a silent sea. The light of the setting sun bathed the horizon in hues of amber and crimson, the sky a vast canvas that seemed to stretch infinitely.
Vivienne stopped abruptly, her dark eyes widening as they roamed over the expanse. Her usual sharp-edged demeanour softened, her grin fading into something resembling genuine wonder. She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling as though she were trying to drink in the sight before her.
“It’s beautiful,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. For a moment, the predator’s edge in her tone was gone, replaced by something fragile, almost wistful.
Rava glanced at her, startled by the sincerity in Vivienne’s voice. She followed her gaze, taking in the familiar beauty of the fields she had seen a thousand times before. “It is,” she admitted after a pause, her voice quiet. “Even after all this time, it still gets to me.”
The tranquillity of the landscape didn’t match the tension that lingered in the air. Vivienne’s sharp senses caught the subtle shift in the guards’ demeanour as they travelled. Their fear remained—a slow, simmering unease—but she could also taste a flicker of something else as the village drew closer: hope. Perhaps the thought of returning to familiar walls and loved ones gave them reassurance. Vivienne wondered idly how their emotions might change if they realised the nature of the creature walking beside them.
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Her dark eyes flicked to Rava, who was staring ahead, her shoulders set and her stride purposeful. How big is her home? Vivienne mused. The guards’ relief suggested something larger than a simple village. A town, perhaps? Or even a bustling city? A place with more people—and more fear. How would she fare there, surrounded by so many? The thought was both thrilling and unnerving.
Vivienne tilted her head as she considered the implications. She was strong, yes, but strength could only do so much against overwhelming numbers. And what of politics, alliances, and grudges? Humans and their ilk had a way of making things unnecessarily complicated, would the lekine be any different? She glanced at Rava again, her grin returning, faint but present. Perhaps she’d manage. After all, it wasn’t just strength she had—it was charm. Or at least, her version of it.
Still, a faint unease stirred within her. Why do I care? she wondered, irritated at the question surfacing in her mind. Yet the answer lingered just beneath her thoughts, uninvited but undeniable. She did want to be liked—or at least tolerated—by Rava’s people. Not for their sakes, no, but for her own. She’d loathe to admit it, but the idea of being utterly alone again, without anyone to tease or prod, was... unsettling.
Her grin faltered, just for a moment, before she shook her head and plastered it back into place. “Chin up, Vivienne,” she muttered under her breath. “You’re far too fabulous for self-pity.”
“What was that?” Rava’s ears twitched as she glanced back at her.
“Oh, nothing.” Vivienne waved a clawed hand dismissively. “Just psyching myself up for all the charming I’ll have to do.”
Rava snorted, clearly unimpressed. “Charming isn’t the word I’d use.”
“Wounding, truly,” Vivienne replied, her voice dripping with mock offence. “Do you ever stop to think about my fragile, delicate heart?”
“No, because it doesn’t exist.” Rava smirked, her ears twitching with amusement. Then, her expression softened into something more exasperated. “I would rather not enter the clanlands with you covered in blood. Did you really need to tear into those aetherbeasts like that?”
Vivienne’s smile faltered only slightly. She glanced down at herself, running a clawed hand through the remnants of blood and fur that clung to her clothes. Her lips quirked up in a wry smile. “It’s not exactly... fashionable, is it?” she mused, eyes flicking back to Rava’s. “But I suppose I could have been a bit tidier.”
Rava groaned softly, her brow furrowing in frustration. “Viv, you have to at least try to show some restraint. Even with your current appearance, you’ll unnerve most people.” She let out a heavy sigh, the weight of responsibility settling on her shoulders. “You’ll be protected while you’re associated with me, I think... but that doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want.”
Vivienne stopped mid-step, her expression flickering for a moment before she watched Rava carefully.
Rava halted, turning to face her directly. “I am trusting you to keep your claws to yourself while you’re here. I can’t protect you if you do anything too… extreme.” Her voice was stern, but there was an undercurrent of concern. “I know what your nature is now, to an extent. Just, keep in mind some of the sensibilities, and at least try to emulate them.” She sighed deeply, the sound carrying the weight of unspoken fears. “Because while you are in there, if you step out of line, I will be in trouble, and you might end up dead.”
Vivienne took a slow breath, her lips pressing together as she processed the gravity of Rava’s words. She could hear the concern in her voice, but something about it didn’t quite land right. Dead? The word lingered in her mind, and she let it settle before answering. Her tone softened, a trace of sincerity threading through the playful mask she wore.
“I’ll do my best,” Vivienne said, her eyes never leaving Rava’s. She tried to offer a reassuring smile, but from the tense set of Rava’s jaw, it wasn’t enough. “I promise I won’t harm anyone while under your protection in your lands. As I said before, even if I get hungry, I can always hunt in the steppes. And… I do know how to be polite.”
Rava frowned, unconvinced. “Then why have I never seen you be polite?” she asked, her voice tinged with a mixture of exasperation and something else—something that made Vivienne pause for just a moment. Rava knew her too well, and the weight of that trust, the way it was placed upon her, sent an unfamiliar pang through her chest. She fought to bury it.
“Because teasing such a beautiful creature as yourself is not only easy, but fun too!” Vivienne’s lips curled into a mischievous grin, her eyes twinkling with playful intent.
Rava threw her paws up in the air in mock defeat, the corners of her mouth twitching despite herself. “Impossible. Simply impossible.” She turned away with a shake of her head, though the small chuckle she tried to suppress betrayed her. “You’ll be the death of me, Viv.”
Vivienne watched her with a smirk, a sudden warmth pooling inside her. She had pushed Rava too far before, testing the edges of their uneasy alliance, but something about the way the lekine’s voice softened just now made Vivienne feel… a little less alone. She took a slow step forward, glancing back at the grasslands stretching ahead of them, but her attention was still on Rava.
"Don’t worry, Rava. I’m not so foolish as to bite the hand that’s feeding me... unless she likes it,” Vivienne teased lightly, her grin sharp but her eyes glinting with something more sincere that lingered beneath her usual mischief.
Rava froze for a heartbeat, her neck flushing a deep crimson. She blinked, clearly caught off guard, but then she quickly regained her composure, pushing the moment aside with a huff. "That’s… inappropriate," she muttered, her voice rougher than usual. She glanced away, focusing on the path ahead, but her ears twitched—a clear giveaway of her embarassment.
Vivienne let the silence hang for a moment, enjoying the effect of her words. She had no particular desire to push Rava too far, but seeing the lekine flustered was an oddly satisfying distraction from the deeper things simmering underneath her own thoughts. Still, she let the teasing slip into a softer tone. “Sorry, Rava. Couldn’t resist,” she said, her grin fading to something more apologetic.
Rava didn’t respond immediately, the tension between them hanging thick in the air, filled with all the unspoken things neither of them were quite ready to face. The rhythmic sound of their footsteps was the only noise for a while, the wind rustling through the tall grass that swayed like a sea under the fading light.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Rava exhaled slowly, her breath a soft release, as if she were letting go of something she hadn’t known she’d been holding in. She gestured ahead, her arm slicing through the air as she pointed into the distance.
“The Serkoth Clanhome,” she said quietly.
Vivienne’s gaze followed the direction Rava’s finger indicated. At first, the world seemed to blur, but then, through the sweeping fields of grass, something solid came into view—something more permanent. She squinted her five eyes, the extra pair helping her see through the vast horizon. There, rising from the earth like a monolith, was a wall of polished stone, towering and imposing against the backdrop of the fading sky. It wasn’t just any wall. It was a testament to the Serkoth legacy.
The stone shimmered in the distance, smooth and almost unnaturally perfect, as though the wall had been crafted by giants rather than mortals. Its surface gleamed with a faint, otherworldly light, even under the muted glow of dusk. The towering structure looked like it had been built to endure time itself, each stone perfectly placed to create a fortress that seemed to stretch into eternity.
"Impressive," Vivienne murmured, her voice soft as she took in the sight. “I can see why you'd be protective of this place.”
Rava nodded, subtle pride tempering the tension in her expression. “It’s more than just a home. It’s the heart of the Serkoth Clan—the place where we gather, fight, and survive. It’s... everything. And everything that could go wrong if—" She stopped herself, swallowing the weight of her unfinished thought. "It’s just... important.”
Vivienne tilted her head, curiosity glinting in her quintet of dark, inhuman eyes. “I understand. This is where you came from. Where your people are. But... do you fear what they’d do if they knew what I am?” Her voice was uncharacteristically soft, the teasing edge dulled by genuine concern.
Rava hesitated, her ears twitching slightly as if listening to some unspoken thought. “Perhaps,” she murmured, her words quieter than a whisper. “You saved my life. More than once. It would be a stain on my honour if something happened to you. I trust you, Viv. I trust you with my life. But I have a duty, too. I need to report what I’ve seen and introduce you to my mother.”
Vivienne’s grin widened, flashing too many teeth, though it carried an oddly earnest air. “Ah, meeting the mother. How serious.” She patted Rava’s shoulder, her clawed hand lingering a moment too long. Her true mouth cracked open just enough to share a glimpse of the endless rows of teeth beyond. “Don’t worry. This is my ‘reassuring smile’ smile. Just so you know.”
Rava gave a low, exasperated groan. “You’ll make the hardiest of soldiers faint with that smile.”
“Perhaps that’s the goal?” Vivienne quipped, her lips curling into a mischievous smirk. “To leave all the lovely men and women swooning at my radiant beauty.” Her giggle was an eerie melody, the kind that danced at the edge of unease.
Rava rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the faintest hint of amusement. “Impossible. You’re impossible.”
Vivienne leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “So, what’s your mother like? Will she swoon too, or does she have a heart of stone?”
Rava’s expression darkened slightly, a mix of respect and caution flickering across her face. “My mother doesn’t swoon. She judges, she tests, and she doesn’t tolerate nonsense. She’s the High Fang of the Serkoth Clan. The pillar everything rests on. The Serkoth are now the closest clan to Aegis amongst the clans, the first line of defence.”
“Ah, a formidable woman. Sounds like we’ll get along wonderfully,” Vivienne said, though there was a flicker of seriousness beneath the humour. “But I’ll behave. For you.”
Rava glanced at her, studying her for a moment before nodding. “Good. Because if you don’t, I won’t be able to protect you.”
The weight of her words settled between them, but Vivienne only smiled, softer this time, as they continued their approach.
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The Serkoth Clanhome came into clearer view as they drew closer. The gates were massive, polished stone etched with intricate carvings of wolves, storms, and warriors in the throes of battle. Guards flanked the entrance—tall, broad-shouldered lekine armed with spears and adorned with fur-lined armour. Their golden eyes fixed on the approaching pair, narrowing as they noticed Vivienne.
One of the guards stepped forward, his fur streaked with silver and his spear gripped tightly. “Lady Ravanyr,” he said, bowing his head in deference. “Welcome home. The High Fang has been expecting your return.”
Rava nodded curtly. “Thank you, Vrek. This is Vivienne. She’s with me, under my protection.”
Vrek’s gaze flicked to Vivienne, his nostrils flaring slightly as he took her in. His expression hardened. “Unusual company,” he remarked, his tone neutral but his grip on the spear tightening. “The matriarch will want to see her immediately.”
Vivienne inclined her head, offering a small, polite smile that was still unsettling in its own way. “A pleasure to meet you, Vrek. I hope we can get along.”
Vrek didn’t respond, his sharp eyes watching her every move as the gates began to creak open. Beyond them lay the Clanhome, a sprawling network of structures carved from stone and wood, blending seamlessly with the rugged terrain. Streams of water cut through the village, flanked by tall grasses and gnarled trees. Lekine moved about with purpose, their ears twitching and their golden eyes sharp as they took note of the strangers entering their midst.
Whispers began to ripple through the air as Vivienne stepped inside, her unusual form drawing wary glances and hushed conversations.
“Stay close,” Rava muttered, her voice low but firm. “Let me handle the introductions.”
“Lead the way, Lady Serkoth,” Vivienne said with a demure bow, her grin returning with just a hint of sharpness. Together, they stepped into the heart of the Clanhome, the weight of curious and cautious eyes following their every move.