I Have No Mouth but I Need to Scream

For a moment it seemed as though the masked monstrosity would it reveal her name. At the last moment, when Strega was ready to change the subject, her name fell into the air, and Strega nodded. Looking the woman over, there was no way to tell if the name matched the face, as all she could see was her eyes no her nose. But there was a darkness in those bright gold eyes that contrasted so sharply with the admittedly light sound of her name. "We are well met, Signora Canttina."

"Ah yes, I would very much like to see more. Your home seems to fit you so well, il mio tesoro," she purred, her voice taking on a husky sort of tone. Never in her life had Strega flirted, and she had certainly never done so with a female, but she knew how to speak and she knew how to toy with others. Se drew amusement from the way that Canttina reacted to her. It was new and exciting, and she wanted to milk it a little more. Her reddish ears, or what was left of them, tipped back in a coy expression, her eyes too dull to glitter, but certainly smokey.

The smell of blood continued to waft up from the belly of the makeshift den, reminding Strega this was a dangerous place she was in. Both of the women were killers, though neither could be sure to what extent the other's crimes went. Their methods were polar opposites; Strega's den would never smell of blood. Her methods were far more covert. Canttina wore a trophy of a kill upon her face, and Strega was willing to bet her scars were earned in battle. For Strega, her marred body was simply a map that showed the progression of her life, how she went from point A to point B. From pristine to tainted.

"Oh. Surely you must know I would inquire, but this skull you wear, it is from where?" She wondered, her voice thirsty for the knowledge. She was dying to know, what possessed a wolf to wear another's head as their own?