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Poisonous Fox
Absorption 2.2.3.2

Absorption 2.2.3.2

"Payment?” I asked, licking my lips. “What… what sort of payment are you after?"

I was not prepared emotionally to head back down into the cellars to deal with her rat problem, at least not currently. I hoped she had something else in mind. But when her sharp eyes roved over me, and her whiskers quivered, I grew concerned. When I saw Anne over Cook's shoulder shaking her head and mouthing, "Don't do it!" I began to regret making my request for meat. I could have found it elsewhere, really. In a city this large, there must have been an enclave of carnivores somewhere.

"Yes, a small favor." Cook paused, listening as my stomach growled. "Or a not so small one, depending on your appetites. My larder is only so full."

After my adventures the night before, my appetite this morning had only grown, and it seemed that nothing but meat would satisfy it. I imagined that this was similar to cravings that pregnant women were known to have. I imagined that there were several nutrients in meat that my body required, nutrients not available in the usual grains and dairy.

Still, though. Even with my appetites, even with the fatigue and light-headedness, I was not prepared to agree to an open ended favor. I frowned, and was about to retreat from the conversation, when Cook spoke once more.

"Young kit, do not look so worried," Cook said, smiling in that feline way of hers. My ears prickled when she called me a kit. Did she know? I sincerely hoped my Guise was better than this. "The favor would not be so impossible for one of your ability..."

In the background, Anne was now gesturing with her arms making a clear 'X' over and over while shaking her head. Concerning, but I was unsure if Anne was serious or not. I had a hard time reading her personality.

"What would be the nature of this favor?" I asked. "And why did you call me kit?" I finished, unable to resist.

"As if the answer is not known already, kit. But this one will not tell."

She knew! But how? Was my identity at risk? From the way she carried herself, I doubted it, but nothing was set in stone. What gave me away? Was it the meat? Or something else. Perhaps a scent? I wished I could ask, but there was the off-chance that she really did not know and was speaking of something else.

Anne seemed confused by the response at least. But that would make sense since Anne lacked context that the Kaiva chef apparently had. Mother take it all!

My stomach rumbled once again. Green stars floated in my vision. It grew difficult to focus, and daydreams of hamburgers and steaks and glazed hams began to accost me.

"As for the favor?" Cook continued. "Does the kit truly have a choice?"

Blackmail? I wondered. Or was she referring to my hunger? Either way, she was correct. My choices were limited. But it would be foolish to cave without making a show of consideration. If I acted in obvious desperation, more so than my stomach betrayed, then Cook might exploit me further than she already could.

"Is there a better place to find meat?" I asked, making a show of empty consideration. "Surely there must be others that eat meat in this cesspit of a city." Some venom unintentionally leaked into my voice.

"Truly, this is asked?" Cook chuffed in amusement. "No. These furless apes have no stomach. Their stock sourced from rodents or meohrs at best. Besides..." Cook led off, grinning and showing her needle sharp teeth, "Your choices are limited, yes?"

I groaned but nodded. It seemed my act was seen through, or Cook simply did not care.

"This is agreed, then," Cook said. Before Cook turned back towards her kitchen, Anne quickly stopped miming and went back to peeling what looked like yams. Cook chuffed again, seeing her assistant at work. "As though this one lacks ears," Cook muttered. From what I could tell, Cook might have a sharp tongue towards Anne, but there was no real heat to their relationship. Otherwise Cook would have done more than mutter that complaint, instead of just shaking her head as she went. Cook kept going all the way to the back most corner of the kitchen, where a dinged up cold cabinet stood. She opened it and rummaged around before pulling out a package wrapped in butcher paper, one about the size of two decks of cards pressed together. "...and, here." She brought the package back and handed it to me. It was cold, and partially stained red. "This should tide you over for now."

"Thanks?" I respond, unsure as I bring the package up to my nose. My stomach twisted again in hunger, and my mouth began to salivate.

"Oh?" Cook asked. "Should this one take the flesh back then?"

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"I mean, thank you!" I forced myself to enthuse.

"Mm. Then begone from my kitchen until the morrow."

I nodded and turned to depart. As I walked through the door, I realized that the meat might not be cooked. Voicing my concern, I called back, "is it still raw?"

Cook scoffed. "Of course. Your teeth seem firm enough. Now go!"

I grimaced and kept going, trying to figure out if there was a quick way to prepare the meat, and if it was worth sneaking back into the kitchen, when I heard Anne snort a laugh from somewhere behind me. It may have been pride, but I decided then and there to take the meat and keep going. I did not pause until I reached the same table that Marianne and I normally ate at, at the back of the tavern.

By the time I returned, Marianne had finished her own breakfast and had begun preparing for the day. She waved towards me, but otherwise kept going about her duties, leaving me in relative peace. Which was good. Because what I was about to do would likely be somewhat ugly.

It was a mark of my desperate hunger that I was even considering doing this.

I set the package on the table, noticing that my porridge had already been cleaned up, likely thanks to Marianne. I glanced her way, making sure she was looking elsewhere. When I determined I was in private, or private enough, I unwrapped the paper.

Blood. A small shank of red meat. My teeth itched. My tongue felt too big, or my mouth too small. I felt my Spell straining to hold myself together. Having the meat so close was too much. If I did nothing, I was sure to be revealed.

Guise of the Kitsune: 4/9 (+1)

Fortunately, I could fix this easily enough. I lifted the meat to my lips, tongue darting out and licking across the striations, tasting the coppery goodness. My teeth parted, I slipped the slimy cold mass in...

...The first bite was ecstasy, the tender flesh melting on my tongue like a forbidden delicacy. I tore into the meat ravenously, each morsel sending shivers of satisfaction down my spine. It was unlike anything I'd ever tasted before; rich and flavorful, yet carrying with it an inexplicable air of unease.

I lost myself in it, soon finishing my meal, and sitting there for an unknown amount of time, with blood smeared across my hands and face.

That was how Esmerelda found me.

"Jackie?" came Esmerelda's voice from the doorway, startling me out of my carnivorous reverie. My cheeks burned with shame as I hastily cleaned up, using a rag that I had failed to notice earlier to wipe away the evidence of my... well, of my indulgence.

"Esmerelda," I stammered, my heart pounding in my chest. "I didn't hear you come over."

"Clearly," she replied dryly, her eyes taking in the remnants of my feast, the red butcher paper that had served as my plate. "You've been eating well, I see." There was something in her tone that sent a shiver of foreboding down my spine, though I couldn't quite place why. "From Cook?"

"Y-yes," I admitted, unable to suppress the tremor in my voice. "Cook gave me some of her personal larder."

"Ahhh," Esmerelda nodded, her expression inscrutable. "Well, I hope it was worth whatever she charged you for it. It's definitely different from what most of the meat stalls will sell."

Meat stalls? "Are they nearby?" I asked, a mixture of hope and regret. Regret for going to see Cook instead of a meat vendor. Hope, because I was still hungry.

"Close enough," she said with a grin. "We'll pass by a few markets and taverns on our way to the Merc's Quarter."

"Huh?" I replied, confused.

She rolled her eyes at my confusion. "I suppose an explanation is in order?" she said with an amused tone.

I nodded slowly, feeling foolish for not understanding. "That would be helpful," I admitted.

"I'll explain as we walk," she said, her voice laced with excitement. "We don't want to be late for your training."

"But what kind of training is it?" I asked as I got up from where I had been sitting.

"Guess," she challenged me playfully, already starting towards the bustling city streets ahead of us.

Blessings: Rank (1/9)

* Body: 65

* Mind: 75

* Spirit: 49

Talents:

* Athleticism (3/9):

* Climbing I (3/9)

* Featherlight I (3/9)

* Inversion (2/9)

* Stealth I (6/9)

* Trackless Tracks I (3/9)

* Area Coverage (5/9)

* Alchemical Immunity (ineligible for growth)

* Eschiver I (1/9)

* Evasion I (1/9)

* Impending Sense (1/9)

* Lucky Break (1/9)

Spells:

* Illusion I (5/9)

* Touch (8/9)

* Guise of the Kitsune (4/9) (+1)

* Closed

Gifts:

* Obsession (3/9)

* Closed (0/9)

* Closed (0/9)