OOC: So I guess you can have this archived after my post? Because Slade is SO not going to follow her.
WC: 378
There would be no awkward silence now. Arwen just ran. Looked at his completely baffled and terrified face and ran. Gone. Like the wind. Here one second and running the next. Well. It looked like he was rid of her for a while.
Slade didn't even bother to see if she was having a mood swing and would end up coming back. Glancing at the rabbits she had caught, he recoiled, curling his lip. Maybe the reason his stomach had been upset wasn't because of the blood but rather because these things were poisoned. Wasn't that a nice thought? He had just eaten poisoned rabbit. Aha, so now he was going to die, all because he had eaten in front of a mad stranger. Oh, yes, then he would die and haunt her and tell Shawchert that she was the murderer....
He mentally slapped himself. Dang. Her craziness was rubbing off on him. He shook his head quickly. Paranoia and her utter madness were making him a very different coyote. What had happened to the peaceful, verging-on-boring life he had once lived? In a matter of minutes, it was gone, replaced by paranoia.
Shaking his head quickly, he was about to run away, but kept looking at those rabbits. If he was right and they were poisoned, he wasn't going to let anyone else eat them. That would make him no better than the murderer. No better than Arwen.
Gingerly, cautiously, acting like they were radioactive - as if he knew what the word meant - Slade picked up the scruff of one rabbit by the tips of his teeth, carried them over to an all-too-familiar thorn bush, and shoved it inside, making sure not to stick in his head while he was at it. He did the same to the second, reached in with his paw, and shoved. They were gone for good. The rotting flesh would stink soon enough, but it was better than the rotting flesh of a dead, poisoned wolf. Or dead, poisoned, slightly maddened coyote.
Slade, shuddering, backed away slowly, as if he expected the rabbits to jump out at him, and ran.
That night he was haunted by dreams of a wild sword-swinging Arwen chasing him, aided by her maniacal pet bunnies.
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