The Silent Whisper

Yi TaeKyung · 05-16-2011, 04:56 PM

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Scroll over Korean dialogue for translation.
WC:503

The freshly dead was the first solid meal the Korean hybrid had been able to eat in several days. The black fae required a greater amount of sustenance than those who did not train as often and as thoroughly as she, and there was a marginal amount of release felt as the hot, thick blood flowed into her jaws and filled her stomach. The hungering jaws parted, allowing the carcass to fall upon the earth, now damp with the newly-taken life. Strong, white teeth grasped and tore at the pelt, skinning the carcass and exposing the hot, raw flesh. She felt the strength of the deer filling her as she feasted, and she was glad that she had found this meal before her body metabolized her own muscles for energy. No. Now the black femme devoured another life, stealing its strength to further her own existence. After the meal, she would have enough energy to practice her passion, that martial art from her homeland that required no weapon save for one’s own body and strength.

For the sounds of her own growling and for her currently weakened state, the approach of the male wolf went unnoticed. The black auricles swiveled back at the softly voiced word. She paused, lifting the bloodied jaws from her meal as the dark liquid oozed from her teeth. White orbs found the other, the empty intensity of those calm orbs unmoved by what she saw. ‘Mine.’ That single word the Korean could understand. But with understanding did not come warmth. Something hostile flickered within those eerily bright eyes. “Why?” was all the soft alto voice could say. Her lack of command over the English language was, at times, a hindrance. But it was nothing a little sparring couldn’t handle. “미안하지만, 이건 내꺼다, 이 쌍놈아.” The voice was quiet, contemplative.

The smooth, foreign features of the black wolf’s face contorted into a challenge. She had worked hard, and she had worked equally hard for the kill she had made today. Perhaps, when she was done here, the male could have the scraps she would leave behind. But now, she was unwilling to share her kill with this wolf. He was not her guest, nor was she his. There was no diplomacy required in this situation, and the taekwondo warrior was eager to allow her body to fight, even though the wolf’s shape fought differently than the optime shape. The secui form was large and had its advantages. Ears pressed foreward and tail raised, the black, white-eyed fae was ready to defend her meal. “No,” the Korean-accented voice growled through her exposed teeth. “Eess mah-ee pood-deu.” Hackles rose like dangerous thorns, and although her coat was not as thick as the wolves here, the change in her posturing was quite clear. A thunderous snarl that came not from the throat but from her gut, exploded into the silence—기압, a true warrior’s challenge. She did not attack first, however, although an eerily empty sneer played across her parted jaws.

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