The Silent Whisper

Yi TaeKyung · 06-14-2011, 05:36 PM

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Completely understandable! Sorry for the quality! OnO!!
WC: 528

The vicious growls came quietly through those parte jaws, the hostile sound naturally upon her breathing. The white orbs shone in the dark, almost intensified by her ferocity. When he spoke, the even, rhythmic growls were cut off curtly, as if she were laughing. “Hung-geu-ree?” the alto dirge repeated, the Korean accent thick upon her tongue. The answer to her question seemed to amused that black fae. Why would his hunger matter to her? “그레, 나도 hung-geu-ree지,” she sneered, mostly to herself. Indeed, she was hungry, and perhaps he was hungrier. But she was not willing to share or give up her food. Unlike the stranger before her, she was not protected by a pack within these lands. “Noh. Ah-ee huhn-teu, eet. Noh huhn-teu, noh eet.” She was a lone wolf, and, fending for herself, she felt the keen claws of survival upon her neck. Her culture may have promoted the idea of ‘our house’ and ‘our parents,’ but here, in a culture that did not seem to breed such a thing, as a loner on her own, the black female was unwilling to allow her culture to precede the lupine instinct. And so her hackles were raised and her bloodied, white teeth were bared at this stranger in pure, sanguine hostility.

His posture had changed, however, in response to her posturing and her challenge, and so the hostility was stilled for a moment as the lunar eyes beheld him in silent contemplation. “알았어,” she sighed at length, more interested for once in her meal than the prospect of a fight ahead. “Ah-ee pee-nish-i, yoo eet.” And that was final, emphasized by a flick of her black tail. She promptly turned her back on him, returning to her meal. The Korean martial artist seemed unconcerned. The hungering jaws were allowed to partake in their sanguine meal, made all the sweeter by the threat of it being usurped from her still lingering. But she was more in need of the meal than this male. She wondered why his pack was not feeding him. Was his pack inefficient? Perhaps it was a dysfunctional pack from which he hailed. Whatever the case, when she was done, he could have the scraps. That’s what scavengers deserved. Scraps. She was a hunter. She earned every meal.

She did not know how long she had taken, nor did it matter. But when the black, white-eyed secui had finished her meal, she moved aside. There was still a few scraps of meat, a few organs too. But she had taken the delicacies—the liver, the eyes, the tongue. The majority of the flesh was gone, but there was still much to scavenge. She took a large femur with her, settling down to chew at the rich marrow. Content and full, the warrior set to digesting before she would return to her practicing. The white orbs turned to the stranger. “Yehs,” the alto voice almost commented. “Yoo eet nah-oo,” she said, almost invitingly. And although she turned her jaws to the bone, the eyes still lingered with their strange emptiness upon the stranger. Now that she had sated her starvation, she was able to contemplate the presence of this pack-wolf.

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