streetwise angel, booksmart devil

Itachi Lykoi · 01-03-2012, 10:27 PM

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She should never have come to this place. The blonde prince of broken things didn’t know who she was or where she had come from, but what he knew was that she should be here, but the merry fire, at this moment. It wasn’t fear that brought the strange sense of urgency to his thought, but terrible anticipation. He was a creature that could have taken his seat with calm and watched an apocalypse destroy the earth before him without feeling alarmed. But there was a rare, bitter and wrong feeling blooming at the very back of his tongue. The foolish woman believed he was alone with his fire, but she was wrong, and now a merciless presence was rising up behind him. Again, the red eyed man refused to allow a shudder to pass through his body. It was only when the spirit was close that cold had the ability to chill his bones.

Once, he had thought himself truly mad. But the voice had spoken of things he couldn’t possibly have known, and spoke of memories of a time before he had been born. He had watched as the invisible creature had attacked the earthen shaded man. He had watched an innocent male die and with silent horror seen evil be born anew. But relief had been the prominent sensation back then, and he hadn’t allowed the memory to give birth to dark nightmares. The Lykoi prince had thought that to be the end of it all. The dead had risen from his bed and moved away without hesitation, and he had believed the ghost to have left his life forever, when he had found the way to enter through an unsuspecting man’s flesh and rip the soul away from its mortal vessel.

But the body had died and the voice had returned to bring terror to his day. It wasn’t unbearable to be haunted by his ancestor’s spirit, but with the strange jump of coincidence or fate (whichever he decided to believe in), someone had re-entered his life and taught him what he imagined fear to feel like. Although bound by greed like every other creature, he didn’t fear for his own well-being as he did China’s. But words of threat had yet to come, and the monster had been dormant for some time. But Itachi recognized the characteristic chill the unholy presence brought with its approach.

Clenching teeth brought wary hues to cling to her face and the change he saw there. Her jaw hung open with the intention to speak, but she was frozen in place, and caused the man’s golden audits to lean back towards the rise of his fur. Blind agony was plain on her face, and the golden man rose on stoic feet, though every tap of his pulse left echoes in their wake. His wolfish muzzle crinkled as she recoiled from him. But as she opened her eyes to return her insolent stare to his form, he understood. He recognized the intense blue colour in her eyes, though he knew for certain that he’d never seen it before. But memories—not his—had shown him an image, blurred and moving like the disturbed reflection in a stagnant pond.

The expression within her hues did not affect him. But he was most uncomfortable, and would have walked away from fire and rabbits without a word if it was within his power to do so. She too might have appreciated that, but Itachi knew that he was expected to stay. The stakes had risen and the tables had turned. He wasn’t ready, but he didn’t have the privilege to choose. He sat down with the dead animal once again, and once skin and bowels had been removed, the man reached his hand towards her, the free meat slick and bloody in his hand. It was a peace offering, if that was what she required. ”My name is Itachi,” he let her know, eyes wary of displaying the nature of the thoughts crowding his working mind. ”I would be pleased if you would tell me yours.” Even though he already knew. It wasn’t in his nature to smile, and so he didn’t. This company was forced, and he would have to endure.

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