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The black mass twitched in slumber, and it was obvious that golden eyes flickered restlessly behind delicate ember lids. The woman was restless, consumed by the reality and unreality of her dreams; dreams that were drenched in red and screams, with puppies that lay on the ground and leaked their lives into the hungry earth. In some corner of her ruined mind, the woman knew that all puppies could not grow to adulthood, and her children might have been lost anyway. But the brutality of their murder twisted around her mind like a chain, tightening and tightening until there was nothing left but madness and hatred. The woman Linquilea Yae had become would not be able to love the children she fought for even if the Gods saw it fit to bring them back to life, and this overwhelming and fatal flaw further drenched her soiled mind in blood lust.
Linquilea whimpered slightly as she slept, and Niccolo glanced over to his mistress and mother. The scarred man was concerned for her, and wished to extend a hand to comfort her sleeping form. He'd done so from time to time, helping the woman through her sleep-induced madness. She did not know, nor would she ever - the black Queen would cut his throat if she knew he noticed her weaknesses. Even she, the ultimate control freak, could not control how her mind wandered when the subconscious consumed her. But the servant child could not help but frown slightly as he looked at her treacherous form, consumed as it was by madness, and tentatively reach a hand to stroke her black head. She immediately quieted, and her face looked oddly peaceful. It was moments like these when Niccolo was reminded of her otherworldly beauty.
Of course, such serenity could not last with a woman like her, and a single golden eye snapped open as her face returned to its typical rigid anger. A low, dangerous snarl ripped itself from her throat and the anger that characterized her returned to its normal station on her face. "Do not touch me," she growled, her gravelly voice lower than normal. Niccolo withdrew his hand slowly, but the woman was already on four paws and lunging. The brown man did not fight back, but merely whimpered as she sunk her teeth into his flesh, again and again. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry Mother, I'm sorry," he whimpered. "I'm so sorry..."
Lea tired of the attack quickly, though, and retreated, leaving Niccolo's curled body on the ground seeping blood like the children her mind fabricated so often did. But he was breathing, he was alive, he would heal - all this disgusted her. "Go clean yourself up," the black angel spat, disgust and contempt lacing her every word. "You are not worthy of my presence. Do not return until your appearance is adequate." Niccolo nodded, turned, and dashed away as quickly as he could, leaving a trail of blood behind his broken trail.
Lea looked after him with cold distaste, golden eyes showing no warmth or pity for the mahogany man. Blood stained her jaws and she languidly licked at it, savoring the metallic warmth as it coated her salmon tongue.
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