[PRP] Playing with Matches (Matho and Osveta)

[Geyser Eelborn]

It had been a little over a week now, and the right side of his face still burned and screamed. Nothing he could do would numb the pain, and what few observations could be made from the prey he killed indicated that his chances of survival were not good. The fact that he had finally learned how to hunt and that the shriveled feeling in his stomach had finally been eased was little comfort to the scarred male B'alam--he thought, or perhaps knew, but was either way deadly certain--that he was not going to survive for much longer. The thought weighed heavily on his mind, and sent him into dark periods of brooding that grew longer and longer until it would be more accurate to say that he had brief periods of neutral emotions--not joy or cheer--never joy or cheer--but momentary reliefs with nothing else to feel and nothing else to fear. It was an uncomfortable feeling, but one he was growing used to.

Now out of whatever land he had originally awoken in and wandering through plains of grass and dirt, he was aware of how alone he was--and he liked it. He wanted to be alone. He did not want contact with another B'alam. He never wanted to see another again, for he was certain that such an encounter would only bring more pain and suffering. A river crossed his path before him, glistening and gurgling. Thirsty, he bent over for a drink, only to be confronted with his face.

It was mutilated--the skin and flesh had been ripped from his muzzle, cheek, and eye on the right side, leaving the skull exposed in places. It had stopped oozing--at long last--but it was still a hideous sight, difficult to see with his one working eye. The wounds crossed over onto his nose and down his neck across his throat. Other than that, most of the damage was to the right side of his face. He twitched his nose--it moved a tiny bit. He flexed his jaw to reveal his teeth, and saw that his jaw, yes, still worked. Those muscles, at least, had been spared. Even his ears could twitch, though the itching of his missing eyelid was enough to drive him mad.

He was absorbed with his reflection--it was not the first time he had seen his face, but the first time in several days--such that he did not notice anything else around him. It was not a mistake he should have made.

DarkenWoodWolf

 

[DarkenWoodWolf]

Osveta walked along the riverbank, leaving soft footprints in the damp sand. It was easier to walk there on the sand than it was for her to walk with her feet in the water. She would perfer that, honestly. There was just something very comforting about being in the water, no matter how little it was, that swept away all the hurt, all the anger. That was another reason to stay on the shore. She didn't want to be soothed. It ate at her a bit more each day, the desire to track down and find those siblings and.... she wasn't really sure on that part, what she was going to do to them, and how she was going to do it. Those Fire Tribe siblings were strong. So, she had to get stronger before she could face them again.

Osveta kept her head down, violet eyes narrowed but ever watchful. There was no way she was ever going to let someone sneak up on her again. Never. She paused for a moment, running a paw over what was left of her ear. A low growl escaped from her throat. She had just tried to be friendly, meet a male B'alam on her journies. She hadn't expected an attack, hadn't expected a female to rip off her ear and throw her into the rapids. None of it made sense. And the way they had spoken afterward... Rage bubbled up inside of her and she started moving faster, unable to keep herself still. There wasn't anything she could do, not to relieve the strain of the emotion. She had no idea how to deal with this rage.

She lifted her head up to roar, but the sound got stuck in her throat when her eyes fell on someone at the water's edge. She bared her teeth silently, dropping into a crouch, claws tearing into the soft sand. She could see the curl of horns over a soft tan. It was only the lack of bright colors that kept her from springing on the Fire B'alam in a rage. As it were, she growled, low and warning, teeth flashing in the light.

Osveta coun't decide what she wanted to do, stuck between wanting to flee or fight, or get informtion from him.. Instead, she twitched her tail back and forth, snarling at the newcomer.

Of course, she could run if she wanted. There was nothing keeping her here. It would be easy enough to swing around him and come back to the river. But... running never got her anywhere. Maybe an altercation would reveal something.

Osveta bunched her legs behind her and sprung, landing with a splash in the river. "You there, Fire Tribe. Fire is not welcome at the river, not while I am here." She snarled at him, violet eyes sparking in the sun.

Geyser Eelborn