Crackle!
Saphira shifted, her fingers brushing against the coat's sleeve; restless in the quiet.
'He's hiding something more....'
Was it that clear? It seemed so.
Wooooh!
The way his eyes lingered into dead space.
The faint grind of his jaw.
Fingers that hovered aimlessly in the air...
'...It has to do with that voice.'
That voice?
Ominous.
Death itself whispering.
Crackle!
A sharp deduction... but his silence spoke even more.
Saphira shifted, voice breaking it.
"...And then? What happened after you grabbed me?"
His fingers froze mid-air, the fire light painting his shadow across the stone walls.
A long breath slipped out of him; lips parted as if to answer...before closing.
Hesitation.
Crackle!
Her eyes searched his face, soft but unrelenting.
She had to know.
"...That voice....that rhyme. Who was it?"
His throat worked, but no sound came at first.
Wooooooh!
Those ember slits flashed in his mind...
Endless.
Final.
The fire cracked, filling the silence he couldn't.
Crackle!
"...I don't know," he said finally, voice low, almost rugged.
A pause flowed.
His jaw shifted, eyes cast into the shadows.
"Maybe... the one they were waiting for....the representative."
'Yeah, that's it.....'
The word tasted bitter.
He left it out in the air, unwilling to press further.
Woooooh!
Saphira's brow furrowed, as the pull of wind fluttered her hair.
The word caught her:
'Representative of what?'
The words almost flowed from her mouth, but the thought stuck in her throat.
To orchestrate a kidnapping against royalty.....
'...Who could it be? Maybe Orvane?'
Hisss!
Whilst those thoughts threatened to spill out into the cold air, the fire hissed, fat spitting into the flames.
The smell of char filled the room.
Creak.
Riven stood up from his seat, eyes shadowed from the memory he'd just relived.
Tap. tap. tap.
He walked over, crouching down before pulling his skewer free.
Shkk!
A faint hum sung from the pit of Mael's Fang; its visage a hue of burning orange.
The rat hung limp, skin blistered and split.
Patches of black char clung where the fire had bitten deepest.
Crackle!
Saphira moved to cover her nose.
The smell was sharp, metallic, clinging to the air.
Wooooh!
Its burned head lolled to the side, mouth outstretched as if drawing one last call.
'...To think...'
The thought once again lingered in Saphira's mind, impossible to compute, but possible to act out.
She knew they had to survive....
Hunger trumped all sense.
Crackle!
She shifted her eyes, gazing into the light brightening her face.
It still burned faintly, as glimmers of sparks danced around its edges.
The royal garms of before?
Unrecognisable amidst a pool of orange.
Wooooh!
Whilst her eyes shone amidst the flame, Riven stared at the skewered rodent.
Its sharp smell clung to the back of his throat like burnt iron.
It grounded him, forcing him to live out this hell....instead of one manufactured in his mind.
Grrrr!!!
His stomach knotted as he gazed at it, eyes piercing, as if he was willing to transform it into anything else.
That didn't matter.
Was it edible?
That question was the reality....
And it's answer was bordering a thin line.
Wooooooh!
Saphira finally tore her gaze from the fire, the glow fading from her eyes as she was constantly reminded....of their situation.
She watched as Riven rose:
Creak!
The crude skewer balanced in his hand.
Hiss!
It still hissed faintly, grease sliding down the blades frame as steam rose up.
Saphira's throat tightened. The smell was bitter, nothing like food should be...
Yet when Riven lowered the stick towards her first, she found herself leaning closer.
Woooooh!
A princess offered the first bite of charred rat? How vibrant.
She froze as her lips pressed thin.
Princesses did not eat like this.
They did not share survival scraps on a blade skewer in the dark.
'Elyndor....'
Pride and hunger were clashing...
Grrr!!
But it was clear, hunger trumps all.
Hisss!!
Her lips touched the skewer first. It burned hot, as grease coated her tongue.
Her face pinched, at the taste of the skin.
Vile.
Metallic.
Bitter.
Wooooh!
It hovered right next to her mouth, as Riven stared with hollowed eyes; no real expression dressed on his face.
Her lips parted, before closing again...
Hiss!!
He didn't rush her.
This descent? It was the only way.
Wooooooh!
The wind sung, waiting to see it was possible.
To see if these two were capable.
Crisp!
Finally. She took a breath, taking a bite out of its stomach.
The charred skin cracked under her teeth, brittle and dry.
A flash of internal pain flashed, as her nose wrinkled slightly; brows drawing together, as it sat in her mouth.
Beneath the crisp:
Squelch.
A gush of greasy, half-cooked flesh pressed out.
Metallic and sour.
Her lips pinched inward, as the corners trembled...
It wasn't fear.
It was raw revulsion, clawing its way through her body.
WOoOoooOh!
The wind chuckled at her misery.
Her throat worked hard amidst stutters, forcing the bite down before the taste could rise back up.
A stiff expression shone on her soft features....
She didn't have words to describe it.
She didn't want to.
Hisss!
It continued to hiss on-top of the blade, before she passed it to Riven.
Creak.
The seat creaked as he leaned forward, taking the blade by its grip.
Saphira's hand hovered over her mouth as she dealt with the aftertaste.
Wooooh!
The grip was warm, as the meat hissed faintly.
He stared at it, eyes dark, jaw tight.
Grrr!!!
His stomach roared, but the silence inside him was louder.
Crackle!
The fire popped, before his voice came out, hoarse; each word tasting bitter.
"...Is this survival? To gnaw on filth and call it life?" His knuckles whitened around the skewer.
Saphira's head turned, eyes narrowing.
"...Riven---"
But he didn't stop. His teeth ground tighter, wood scraping beneath him.
Woooooooh!
"To be hunted so long....you start to believe running is all you were ever born for?"
The skewer trembled in his grip. His gaze dropped to the rat's blistered skin, steam still rising.
"Fuck Isyra."
Crisp!
He bit down.
Squelch.
The taste bitter and vile, crawling down his throat like rot.
Saphira parted her lips as if to speak, but no words came.
Was it shock?
Those words....
Crackle!
The fire hissed.
They ate in turns, no more said.
The silence pressing down, heavier than the taste.
Wooh!
Even the veil hushed its pull. It was deathly quiet.
Squelch.
Only the sounds of rotating metal, and the squelching of meat, resounding clear in a church long abandoned.
'Is this survival?'
'Fuck Isyra'
The words floated in her mind, taking her attention of the meats putrid taste.
Her chest tightened.
Was it defiance?
Or despair?
She didn't know.
Crisp!
But it didn't change the danger in the saying.
Saphira closed her eyes suddenly, as she clasped her hands:
'Please....forgive him.'
An act he didn't ask for.
One he didn't notice either, as he chomped a pull of meat with a hollow gaze.
SHHHHHH-----PPAHHHHHH!!!
Their heads spun.
Their stomachs dropped.
A sudden and long cry in the wind.
Like a firework unravelling.
Riven ran to the window, his steps thundering across the floor:
TAP! TAP! TAP!
It was rising in his stomach again.
It wasn't the rat.
The sky was split with a blue flash, bleeding against the cold white sky.
Saphira sat there, staring through the cracks....
THUMP!
Her heart jumped, as her fingers cradled the wooden frames.
"...What is that?"
"Haa...."
Riven's breath exhaled on the cold stone wall, hands grasped onto a ledge.
He didn't know.
Did he want to?
The sound still echoed above, filling the entirety of the veil in a song of numb.
Before he could turn around....his eyes caught at the snow.
The lumps?
"R--"
The half buried shapes around the church?
Around the derelict houses?
They quivered.
"Ri---"
A faint tremor at first....then a shudder.
"Ha...ha...."
As if something beneath had drawn a breath.
Drawn a life.
His breath quickened.
"Riven!"
He spun at the call, rapidly. Urgently.
She hadn't seen yet.
Wooooooh!
But she would.
The meat in his stomach twisted.