Bag of Bones

The soft whisper of paw padding against dry earth alerted Azariah to the approach of another. Umbra had been shoulders deep in the corpse of an unlucky doe, too hungry to play lookout for the faerie queen. She had been made a queen, after all. Lucifer had made her so, and she would keep her secret crown. The skull mask she wore belonged to a king, her father, and she wore it now as a proud display of her grief and heritage. Her belled collar tinkled softly as she turned to peer at the stranger with blood red eyes through the empty sockets of her father's skull. His words struck her then, and her dark ears perked at his kindness. "I am eating death...though it is rotten and unfulfilling." Her voice was sweet, but there were mournful undertones that suggested she thought the meal would have tasted better somehow.

"Um...we can both go hunt? I have never done it before..." She wasn't afraid to admit her faults, though she did know how to kill. With an uneasy breath, Azariah gave a strange grin that betrayed her uneasiness. Perhaps, she had shared too much. Was it even okay to tell a stranger you didn't know how to hunt? It was too late now, she supposed.

WORDS TALK THOUGHT