Each step leaves a fresh, crisp footprint in the snow. It is as if he spider-witch was the only soul to have ever walked here, yet the tracks of coyotes prove otherwise. She finds one of them grazing on a small patch of mud that wasn't covered in the white powdered snow. She stared.
Blood.
Its scent trailed towards her nostrils as he took the perfume deeply within her lungs and kept it there, like an addict would do with his first dosage of nocotine of the day. She gasped, incisors salivated. Drooling, the spider-witch was literally drooling, droplets of spit were dripping down her chin the more the woman was eyeing the beautiful, sensual, delicious crimson liquid//
She watched with cold, calculating eyes. Her beath silent.
She launched towards the foolish creature but not before her limbs were spread and her tail was straighted in order to aid with her balance further. The damned rascal had no chance, it was in the spider-witch advantage fore the damned was already injured. It did not take long, a small chase and her foul heart was pumping with adrenaline until the point it carved a tattoo against her ribcage. It was over in a moment. Her claws were like needles, penetrating the animal soft tissues of skin, applying enough pressure not the murder it instantly but to pin it down under her extended limbs in order to draw the small droplets of crimson liquid towards the surface. It was right where the predatorix wanted it. No escape. No mercy.
Not good.
Not good?
No.No.No.No. NO!
The voices of the ghouls made the predatorix to shake her skull, their vocals deafening, like thunders.
A closer look upon her pitiful victim and she realized that they were right. It was not good. She could lick the blood from its wounds but the majority of it would go to waste, the animal hide absorbing it and leaving her stomach empty. Blood was the only substance she craved, the only substance she needed in order to stay alive. Any other sickening and weakening her, such was the thought she created inside her diseases mind, the truth (in her perspective) that the spirits whispered. Maybe that is why the woman looked more like a skeleton than wolf.
She did not hesitated to sink her murderous canines into the creature hide and drag him towards the bark of a tree. A lowered branch, similar with a stake, quickly had her complete attention and she staked the creature on it, upside down. The stake penetrated the coyote genitals and thus was hanged. It was swift and quick fore her stomach began to rumble and before the predatorix knew her claw already sliced the throat of the animal, allowing all the crimson liquid to rush forward, pooling underneath it into a over sized puddle, mixed with mud and ice.
Yes. Yes. Yesss
Yess.
She sat on her haunches, leaning her skull towards the delicious puddle as she let the animal heart do everything for her. The quicker it beat the quicker the blood was rushing outside of it. Fool. A plush, coral tongue escaped her murderous jaws, drinking everything she could and having her fill as the coyote last yelps were more than music to her ears, they were a symphony on the vast stage of life that brough joyful sentiments within her black heart.
Seconds passed. Minutes passed. A full hour went by before the she-wolf departed from the now stained region of mud, the cold blood did nothing for her. It was not fresh anymore. It did not warm her bones anymore. It was soiled.
Shameless.
She spatted once as she spit on the animal before she turned on her heel, revitalized, energy pouring through her every fibers. Such was the power of the vital liquid for her. This will keep her forever young as long as she keeps bathing in it every once in a while.
The spider-witch prowled on, sinisterly creeping, a shadow upon the Earth. Now that her hunger has been sated it was time for her to concentrate of the matter at hand. The moment she stepped foot in this region of land she had only one singular motice in mind and that was to inspect the fauna this region had to offer for her herbal interests. She could not live in a place that would not aid her needs as a toxicologist and herbalist. She needed her potions. And since she did noot had anything to carry them with she had to make sure she was able to recreate them whenever convenient.
The first plant she happened upon was one of common rarity that even an apprentice could recognize by the name of Alfalfa. It was the first time she scattered those unfamiliar grounds for their flora and fauna and thus she common ones where the ones she was truly interested in. Being in a unfamiliar place she saught majority and quantity over quality for her first harvest.
It was on a patch of dried grass that was not yet completely covered in Mother Winter ivory blanket or perhaps it melted due to the peculiar rainy climates this region seemed to have. If there was one thing on the predatorix mind upon her discovery was that there was absolutely no reason why she should pluck the plant from her roots. That was a apprentice mistake. She did not need the roots not did she had a place to let the roots dry properly in order to use them for medicine, no. All she needed were the flowers of the colour of lavander. And she made sure to offer acute precision as her canines applied mild pressure onto the peduncle in order to them to rip as neatly as possible and to not damage the plant itself. The flowers were the easiest to carry for she could simply keep them within her luxurious, ebon fur until she reached her home, in the Swamps.
The second plant she happened upon was Horsetail, however the woman was not surprised at all. It was commong knowledge that your challenge with horsetails isn't in growing them, but in containing them and keeping them from spreading to places where you don't want them to grow. Any fool with a little bit of knowledge could identify it; the leaves of horsetails were arranged in whorls fused into nodal sheaths and the stems were green and were distinctive in being hollow, jointed and ridged. The problem many seemed to have was with harvesting. The predatorix was fortunate enough that the horsetail leaves were bright green and were turned upward which meant that some of them were eady to be harvested and used. She used the same technique as she did with the Alfalfa; her incisors were the best scissors she had from Mother Nature and she put them to good use this time as well. Her ivory incisors snapped the horsetail a few inches from the base, or less if it’s a very young, short horsetail. One, two, three, for. Four were enough for her to carry within her bushy fur and made sure that the strings and beads she possessed as accessories along with the throphy skulls of birds and other small animals aided in keeping them in place.
The third plant she happened upon did not happen. The spider-witch mind was preoccupied by the masculiine musk that wondered in her direction and she decided to investigate. After all, those precious hours of night-time were soon to be over and she will once again return to her blind and vulnerable self.
Come out, come out, where ever you are.
Another meal? Meal. Meal
Meal.
Came the melodious vocals of the spider-witch as she prowled through the night, sinisterly, her hips moving with a ghoulish allure of their own, the seduction of the night.
It was not long before her pace lessened as her azure gaze locked upon a man. Older than her, that was true, but a man nonetheless. This was not the only thing she noticed, no,no. The man had a dead creature next to him. Prey. Food.
Blood?
Blood.
Melodious, venemous vocals replied to the ghoulish voices of the spirits within her own mind. Accepting their idea like it was sacred. There was blood but as she came to a halt several meters from the man she discovered it was not only the creature's blood but also the mans. It was more potens more....fresh and to that taught her mouth salivated.
Heed, and listen closely.
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