Je suis une enfant du monde

"Two... two is good." Now they had their captives. Now the fun would begin. Absinth got to her grisly work, and Auriga watched, satisfied. She made her captive watch, too; the boy wept for his father, and scrabbled at the earth. Auriga leaned down and spoke, loud enough for everyone to hear, pretending to whisper into the boy's ear.

"A game. Let's play a game. You be entertaining, boy, and when we're done with this bastard, we'll ... let you go." She stepped away, but not far enough for the boy to get an idea of running. He was shaking, and he looked ill, only becoming more sickly-seeming as Auriga began to sort the organs of his twitching relative. She rent flesh from bone, and undid the guts, splaying organs upon the earth and harvesting the skins of intestines. She snickered as the boy stood, listening to his family die, listening to the pained cries. "Do you not understand? Entertain us, boy!" She began to wind the gut-strings together. "Are you hungry? Is that it?" As she worked on her grisly task, winding guts into something more substantial, Auriga shoved the carcass towards the boy, towards Absinth's captive.

"Well?" Auriga murmured. "If you're too weak to be entertaining, you must be hungry."

"I'm not--"

The boy staggered back as Auriga struck him across the face. He stumbled against his limb-broken father. "You're not hungry? Then why are you being so fucking boring, eh?" She tightened gut-strings. Already, Absinth could likely see what was being made here: a snare, the sort that caught prey by the neck and hung it high.

"N-no, I just-"

"Or should I bring you back to my brothers? They'll fuck you to death." Auriga said it so bluntly-- her ears twitched forward in amusement as the boy cried out and shook his head. "Then eat, you little whelp. Eat!" She reached out, grabbed the boy, and pushed him face-first into the steaming abdominal wound rendered in one of his relatives. As he bent, Auriga peered at his neck, and made a slight adjustment to the way she wove guts together. No, no. She needed to make it a little... looser. Enough to make this fun.