- Feb 5, 2009
- 3,808
- 15
- 201
(
seems Pychaste and black serama are getting along)
"Nightshade." The name came involuntarily to his beak, impulsive, immediate and yet not a name he had repeated often. At once he knew why she was here. No doubt she heard the circumstances surrounding her mate's death many weeks ago. She wanted revenge. She wanted revenge for the death of Blackthorn.
"Yes," her smile was a simper, and she picked at a claw thoughtfully. "I'm glade you remember me. At first I thought your idiot brains just didn't have that mental capacity."
"No," he growled. "I'm just glad you cared enough to pay a visit and look out for me. Blackthorn would have done the same. As you can see, I'm fine. There's nothing else to see, how about we part ways? I would not want to keep you from your business."
"A nice little proposition," the dark hen clucked smoothly. Her golden gaze fastened onto Bloodwing's face, deadly and yet childish. "But we've only just been re-introduced. I thought maybe after you became a murderer, you'd have a lot more things on your mind than a brother's mate."
Clearly, Nightshade wasn't going anywhere, and that meant only one thing: she had some devious way to loop him into a trap. "Cut to the chase, Nightshade." His hackles raised slightly as he tensed, ready for a fight. He wasn't underestimating this hen, not by a long shot.
"Direct," she chuckled lightly. "I like that," slowly, she sidled up to Bloodwing until they were mere inches apart. He could practically smell the death that lingered upon her sharp talons and see right through to the evil behind her innocent gaze. "Then I'll be direct with you."
"Finally."
"There's not need to be terse," she whispered, running a long flight feather along Bloodwing's beak as she pondered a response. "To make matters short: I have your daughter." Her eyes flashed as her beak curved into a grin. "And in exchange for her, I want you. Life for a life. Do we understand each other?"
Bloodwing only stared at her in horror. Ambersong.
"Nightshade." The name came involuntarily to his beak, impulsive, immediate and yet not a name he had repeated often. At once he knew why she was here. No doubt she heard the circumstances surrounding her mate's death many weeks ago. She wanted revenge. She wanted revenge for the death of Blackthorn.
"Yes," her smile was a simper, and she picked at a claw thoughtfully. "I'm glade you remember me. At first I thought your idiot brains just didn't have that mental capacity."
"No," he growled. "I'm just glad you cared enough to pay a visit and look out for me. Blackthorn would have done the same. As you can see, I'm fine. There's nothing else to see, how about we part ways? I would not want to keep you from your business."
"A nice little proposition," the dark hen clucked smoothly. Her golden gaze fastened onto Bloodwing's face, deadly and yet childish. "But we've only just been re-introduced. I thought maybe after you became a murderer, you'd have a lot more things on your mind than a brother's mate."
Clearly, Nightshade wasn't going anywhere, and that meant only one thing: she had some devious way to loop him into a trap. "Cut to the chase, Nightshade." His hackles raised slightly as he tensed, ready for a fight. He wasn't underestimating this hen, not by a long shot.
"Direct," she chuckled lightly. "I like that," slowly, she sidled up to Bloodwing until they were mere inches apart. He could practically smell the death that lingered upon her sharp talons and see right through to the evil behind her innocent gaze. "Then I'll be direct with you."
"Finally."
"There's not need to be terse," she whispered, running a long flight feather along Bloodwing's beak as she pondered a response. "To make matters short: I have your daughter." Her eyes flashed as her beak curved into a grin. "And in exchange for her, I want you. Life for a life. Do we understand each other?"
Bloodwing only stared at her in horror. Ambersong.
