This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of cannibalism, gore, violence.
* * *

The night comes for him now, slipping out from the shadows with murder on its tongue and death in its eyes. It is an entity in its own right; a vengeful spirit that lashes at his pelt with skeletal fingers and steals the breath from his lungs.

Christien breathes it in.

His mind is a tangle of thoughts and memories - a twisted knot of emotion and delight. The sight of her... Her image seared into his brain like a brand; burning bright with love and desire. Her eyes are pools of golden fury, her jaws open wide to reveal the dagger-like rows of her teeth. He sees himself reflected in their depths; a creature of shadow and sin, steeped in blood and sacrifice.

A tool for her wicked purpose.

The wind licks at his face, cold and clammy like the kiss of a corpse. It whispers to him in its raspy voice, filling his ears with its withered secrets. They speak of dark things; like deserters and liars and creatures that do not belong. It tells him that they are coming for him; a beautiful pack of bodies, gorgeous and rotten, eager to tear him apart. He shivers in anticipation, his blood pumping hot through his veins.

He stills. A bird caws overhead, flapping its warning of danger. His chiseled head snaps up, eyes blazing as he scents the air. The wind carries the smell of lion. Of violence and retribution. They are near now; he can feel it in his bones.

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Her mind was made up. Time enough had been given for the Illyrian exiles to determine their next path, but it seemed whatever new fate awaited them was only meant to come in bits and pieces, not all at once. Aneistri had waited, alongside her brother and his “friend,” in the hopes that their time might come soon, next even, for a new home to be found for them and a new life to present itself at their paws.

Nothing.

But Ani wasn’t without options. While she longed to stay with her sibling, the one who had remained a constant since reappearing in her life, there was another whose presence upon the earth beckoned to her. Reti had said he was leading the Plains now; it stood to reason he would welcome her into this new pride of his, give her eccentric, directionless life a new purpose while she still had the chance to bond with him. His days were numbered, after all, as morbid as it was to consider it.

She needed to talk it over with Orei, to lay the offer at his feet too on the chance he might see opportunity in it as well, but waiting wasn’t her strong suit. Her sleek plum frame was a dark bruise upon the evening field, mobile as it cut purposefully through the tall grass. Eyes of a periwinkle blue, swirled with violet, searched the horizon as her nostrils flared, every bit of her alert and searching for the edge of this territory that rested within the heart of the valley. If she could locate its border now, it would only be that much easier to drag Orei here later (assuming he would join her).

It wasn’t the border’s scent that accosted her senses, but one of another lion. Rogue, she determined quickly, and very near. Her steps slowed until she stopped, the sound of a bird's call echoing into the evening air, while she searched the surrounding plain until—aha! There they were. Another lion, a young male it seemed, standing there surveying the impending night. He struck such a serious pose there in the twilight that she almost had an inclination to leave him be, lest she disturb whatever seemed to so consume his thoughts. But she was on a mission; if he could help…

Tamping down the worrisome little voice that still rose in the back of her mind, warning of her name, of her lineage, Aneistri approached slowly, craning her neck in a cautious effort to make out the details of his reaction without getting too close to potentially feel it firsthand. “You lookin’ for the Plains too?” she asked, her girlish voice curious, a little hopeful, a mite hesitant. Hopefully the broody boy wasn’t in a trouble-starting mood for her interruption.

ART BY RABBIT, CODE BY DEE, MODIFIED BY GUNNER

This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of cannibalism, gore, violence.
* * *

The evening was ripe with tension; the world poised upon a knife-edge of balance as though on the brink of some great apocalypse. The bird above him flapped its wings in agitation, its voice a charade of warning squawks that clawed down upon his eardrums. But Christien did not stir. He simply sat there, a motionless shadow in the long grass. A skeleton wrapped in papery flesh.

Dust rose in tiny spirals around his legs, the vibrations of feminine paws reverberating through the earth like the ominous throb of an ancient heartbeat. He could taste her scent on his tongue, heavy and sweet; swelling his throat with saliva. His pulse quickened, and he watched with quivering curiosity as she appeared over the rise. Her coat was a purple shade of darkness, deeper than the blackness of a new moon night. Her eyes were blue and purple and dark as storm clouds.

Delicious.

Pink tongue lolled from his jaws, licking at his lips as he watched her approach. Death crept into his mind, slithering through the blackened pathways like a ghostly mistress; whispering words of lust and violence. Yet she - too ethereal for this world - spoke no such thing, her vocals so deathly plain they may have well been a mirage. Christian smiled, a sickeningly sweet expression that spread across his muzzle in an oily sheen of red-tinged saliva. His mouth gaped open, jaw popping as it stretched unnaturally wide, lips pulled back to reveal gleaming fangs.

"Ma cherie," he purred, a soft rumbling of velvet that wrapped around her like the tightening coils of a python, "You were born for shadows and starlight, lumière des étoiles, not for the dust and sunlight of the Plains. That place would strip you bare, bleach every trace of your beauty." Starlight.

@Aneistri

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It was strange how quickly the evening changed the second Aneistri locked eyes with the stranger. Where once the air had felt quiet and calm—the only energy being that held inside, her need to locate the pride within this valley—it now felt charged. A coarse, building tension seemed to hang over her as the lion smiled toothily, his pale eyes sparking with something she couldn’t even begin to place. That gaze seemed to take her in, and she tried to do the same but her assessment was much simpler: not so different from herself in size, a dull coat that almost looked gray in this light. But his eyes…

She would give him that; his starburst eyes were entirely captivating.

The effect was only partially lost when he spoke, not because she took any great dislike to what he said but merely because of her ignorance. She didn’t understand, couldn’t understand, at least a few phrases @Christien used, though she did wish so desperately that she could comprehend. Whatever it was he said sounded wonderfully magical, beautiful as it rolled off of his tongue and gently drew her in even as his gaze pinned her. Aneistri felt lost, out of her depth, and yet so eager to keep up.

She blinked slowly as a little furrow appeared over her eyes, indication of the deep thought she was making in an effort to fully understand what it was the stranger said. He didn’t think she ought to go to the plains…because it didn’t suit her? It seemed like such a bold statement—and of course it was; he’d called her beautiful after all (a fact which did draw out a soft blush beneath the fur of her cheeks). But it was more than bold. It was silly. How did a stranger know what was really best for her?

Hoping she’d understood correctly, hoping that she might yet keep him talking, her head tilted to one side, her puzzled voice soft and distant as she asked, “Then where should I go?”

ART BY RABBIT, CODE BY DEE, MODIFIED BY GUNNER

This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of cannibalism, gore, violence.
* * *

Darkness coils within him like a serpent waiting to strike, sinuous and deadly, edged in shadow. He wonders, quietly, if she even knows it is there; if she can see past the icy veneer of his expression and into the depths of his festering soul. She certainly looks at him deeply enough; through the momentary flicker of concentration that lowers her pretty brow. And then it is gone again, hidden beneath the fragile pretence of civility. He gives her an approving nod - a small appreciation for her fervour - and itches the deep gash on his cheek with a ragged claw, revealing an excess of toes, should she care to notice.

Her head tilts, and Christien's eyes snap to her throat with the speed of a striking serpent. They rove across her neck, her chest, then back up to the large, pearlescent orbs that peer at him from above her midnight nose. So delicate, he muses. Like fine glass, ready to shatter under the right amount of pressure. The thought twists his lips deeper into that wicked smile.

"Would you let me take you," he purrs, taking a singular step towards her, "To a dark place where ze sun never rises and ze shadows grow long enough to cover you in your entirety?" Where he could trace patterns over the shadowy tendrils that crept like vines across her haunches, or taste her veins. He quivers, amber eyes gleaming like embers, and slides his tongue out to lick the saliva from his sharp teeth. "Zere is beauty in darkness, cherie. What can I call you?" Not dinner. She is too full-bodied for such a thing. Too capable. But he will dream. Oui, tonight and tomorrow.

@Aneistri

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She didn’t notice his extra toes. Or even the gash upon his cheek though he touched it briefly, a quiet, unassuming itch that barely registered in her periphery. It was difficult to notice anything but his eyes, his smile, both beguiling and inviting, the very aura he emanated seeming to swallow her into it. It reminded her in a vague sense of her friend, silly Isildur, and the fluttering sensation his presence created within her chest to be near him. But this…this was more. It wasn’t just a flutter, it was a swell, picking her up and carrying her with it against her will with no way to fight. It made the fur on her back rise like goosebumps, made her shiver with an uneasy anticipation that she wasn’t entirely afraid of.

Though…should she be?

There was something like a warning going off in her mind, a ringing sensation that strengthened when the lion smiled at her with enough force to send her stomach swooping again. An offer, sweetened with temptation, found her ears, a soft purr that made her lean in even as @Christien took a step closer. Where did he have in mind, she wondered even as a little tremor raced through her body, where it was always dark and no light could reach her? The Hollow? She’d been there once, knew that technically yes she could adjust to living there again, but she was on a mission, a mission to join the Plains. She couldn’t…

Ani swallowed, biting at the inside of her lip as she considered the offer and what exactly it meant. Maybe she hadn’t understood right. Maybe she just needed it clarified… She was still trying to piece together her response as she answered his secondary question first in the same surprisingly soft voice, “Aneistri.” No surname; she didn’t think it mattered at the moment. But what did matter was this lion’s question, this suggestion to follow him into dark places where that smile he wore and those golden ember eyes of his might shine all the more brilliantly. She was so very curious…

She couldn't help herself. “How far is it?” Was it the Hollow, as she assumed? Or did this bright-eyed stranger have his own dark labyrinth to hide her away in? She realized belatedly that she hadn’t asked for his name in return for her own, a misstep on her part, and though she wanted to she couldn’t bring herself to say it, lest he only choose to answer one.

ART BY RABBIT, CODE BY DEE, MODIFIED BY GUNNER

This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of cannibalism, gore, violence.
* * *

It will not be difficult to ensnare her, he can see it in the morbid curiosity that swirls in her eyes; those dark, glassy orbs that give away nothing of her secrets. There is a gentleness in her nature that draws him in, pulling at the darkness like the silken threads of a spider's web. It is not softness, however, that makes her gentle. Non. It is something harder; a steel in her spirit that is unmovable, faltering only in the way she looks at him, as though daring herself to continue. He wonders if there is a secret darkness within her, too.

Christien swallows his anticipation, like a hard lump of stone in his throat. Then his smile broadens. "Aneistri." Her name sounds exotic on his tongue; rich and thick and lovely, a sweet morsel to be savoured. He rumbles a chuckle at the inquisitive flexing within her cheeks and rises to his full height, feeling the lean muscles beneath his coat ripple as he moves. He swings his head towards the southwest, where the fading sunlight stabs at the mountains beyond. "Zat way," he answers, knowing well that his starlit territory will draw her. "Across zese fields, lies ze labyrinth of towering stone. I have... taken a den for my own." A lair, more like. A stony temple; a home abandoned by its former occupants. A grave. The details are irrelevant.

Her eyes twinkle against the last rays of daylight, and he is reminded of distant stars peering through the haze of night, too far to touch. But he lets his darkness reach for her, unseen tendrils of temptation that coil through the air; flaring through the widened pupils within molten orbs. He cannot help it. He is, after all, a creature of appetite. And his appetite has always been ravenous. "Come," he beckons, indicating with his head towards the steadily approaching shadow, its twin looming out behind them like the ebon wings of an angel. "Let me, Christien--" he pauses for effect, his name rolling smoothly off his tongue "--take you from zis dust, just for a little while."

He draws near - a pauper eager to offer this princess a small morsel of darkness, should she choose to accept it. And with a sharpness in his breath that hints at his excitement, bristling along the ridge of his spine, Christien bends his head low, mouth curving around his teeth. "Come, @Aneistri."

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The sound of her name on his tongue… Ani felt the tremor start in her legs and race throughout the rest of her, one that continued to rattle her even after it was gone. Again, that warning rang its distressed note within her mind, but it did nothing but entice her further, challenging her resolve with the temptation of something dark and mysterious and delightful that was being offered to only her. He called her beautiful, composed from a pitch night spotted with stars, and she wanted to embrace that, to become that, the feeling of being the temptation, of being the mystery. It made her feel wild and weak and so increasingly anxious to know it more intimately.

She still felt shaky as she turned her head to follow his gesture, toward the dark, stony mountain that stood rimmed in fading sunlight. Not the Hollow, she realized, but close. The mountain on its other side. She couldn’t recall if she’d ever paid it any attention before, but the thought of going somewhere entirely new only fed into the enticing fantasy of @Christien’s offer. A secret place closed off from the world, a domain so hidden it was his alone, and he wished to open its borders to her…

…just for a little while.

Those words resonated possibly more than they were intended to. No commitment. This wouldn’t be a lasting choice, one that would change the trajectory of her life forever should she give in to his temptation. She could go, visit this beguiling lion’s domain, see for herself what his dark promises had to offer her and partake of them if she wished, and then return to join her brother and guardian within the plains. The tension in her shoulders, brought on by a worry she would make the wrong choice (after all, she wasn’t good like her brother), began to loosen and relax. She wouldn’t hurt anyone by doing this.

Her eyes found his as Christien stepped closer, tracing the shape of his face in the fading light and absorbing all the details she’d missed at a distance. The line of his jaw, the arch of his brow. That bewitching smile that offered just a peek at his teeth behind it. His golden, starburst eyes that smoldered and made her feel as if he was setting her on fire—and maybe he was. She certainly felt a heat radiating off of him, into her, making her catch herself on a forward step as she inclined too far toward him and threatened to stumble. She took another small, trepidatious step closer, consciously this time, followed by another, each subsequent move easier to make than the last. A giddy anticipation shone from her eyes, her awestruck face, rippling through her. “For a little while,” she agreed softly, close enough that the near-whisper would reach his ears without effort.

She was prepared to follow him, obedient to his enchantment, his temptation, wherever he might lead her.

ART BY RABBIT, CODE BY DEE, MODIFIED BY GUNNER

This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of cannibalism, gore, violence.
* * *

He can see the anticipation ripe within her gaze; a deep and curious hunger, not so unlike his own. And she leans toward him in an enchanted sort of way that makes him want to smile, all teeth and no compassion. He allows her that step, feeling the invisible tether between them tighten with each movement until he can smell the intoxicating scent of her - earthy and cool and so full of life - filling his lungs like a saccharine poison. He sucks in a breath and meets her eyes, feeding from the rapture that lingers within them.

The game is all too easy.

Christien exhales, nostrils flaring as the breath leaves him; and with it goes the last vestiges of light. In that same moment, the shadows descend, carrying with them the slow crawl of evening. He guides @Aneistri with the subtle weight of his elegant body, letting it speak for him as they walk; spidery limbs outstretched and melding with the darkness that encircles them both.

"You see?" he murmurs, satisfaction heavy in his voice. "Zis is ze way of darkness. It is slow, and fluid. Like water." And so too would she be, beneath his touch; liquid and exquisite. His mouth splits further, a rumble rising through his throat, and his tail swishes behind him in languid undulations, much like a snake hypnotizing its prey.

He can feel her warmth emanating from her coat, reaching out for him through the veil of shadow that separates them. And he shudders, reveling in the heat that ignites in his belly and trickles through his veins like poison. "Mon cher, you are as water too. Your beauty could quench ze thirst of all ze plains," he says, fixing her with that impossibly wide grin that he knows makes her uneasy. But she follows him anyway, compelled by that same curiosity that eats away at her now, turning her eyes black and ravenous.

He is suddenly thirsty.

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It was so perfectly timed.

No sooner had she agreed to join him, to brave the darkness for whatever he had to offer her there, it found them, twilight giving way to evening as the sun made its final descent. Aneistri shivered as those shadows overtook them, feeling already as if she’d somehow passed through a veil into a different world. The darkness felt hungry around her, swallowing up the light around them, over them, deepening any bit of darkness to their coats and giving the shadows of the world new life.

They couldn’t steal the light from his eyes though. They still shone as @Christien looked toward her, glittering little beacons of promise that kept her right on his heels, afraid of falling even a step behind and risking losing him to the darkness. Like water, he claimed, and Ani thought she could see it, the way the shadows rolled over the grassy hills, swallowing every major detail on the horizon in a blackened silhouette. Nothing seemed perfectly fixed in space, as if the next undulation of darkness might shift it all one way or another.

She felt very much the same, herself but also different, as if the darkness had already changed her as well. Like water. Her eyes found his, shifted to that toothy smile that seemed big enough to swallow her whole, and felt goosebumps lift the fur over her shoulders. He spoke so eloquently in that foreign tongue of his, making such beautiful, magical comparisons, that Aneistri longed to do the same, to match his fanciful musings with her own. Her mind felt so drab and dull in comparison.

Trying desperately to impress him, not wishing to remain stupidly silent and potentially lose this ethereal impression she’d somehow become entangled with, she stepped up beside him, closer. “But the plains don’t have me tonight,” she stated softly, her girlish tones reaching for a smoother, more sultry sound and just falling short; hopefully he didn’t notice, or, better yet, didn’t care. Her dark eyes twinkled as they sought his. “You do.”

ART BY RABBIT, CODE BY DEE, MODIFIED BY GUNNER