Depollute me, pretty baby

Redrum’s eyes bore into hers, intensity blazing within, as her words wormed their way into his mind. Someone claiming so… directly not to fear him—with his halting voice, his rabid movements, his… edges that cut too sharp—felt unlikely. He was no monster waiting in the shadows, but the color red was always a thing of warning, not safety. Every follicle of hair on his body was nature screaming to stay back, get away. The thought tangled in his head, gnawing at his understanding. His clawed toes flexed into the dirt, his tail flicking behind him in uneven lashes. She could have a point, but Redrum wasn’t seeing it.

That nickname again. Pretty boy. It twisted in his chest, as alien as the first time she’d said it. His long ears twitched, his body half-tense as he sat there. Fear was something he understood, respected—it had always been his compass. How could she say it wasn’t needed? Not here, not now, not with him? Usually when a soul did not show a wariness of him they had a few of their own screws loose… but this did not seem to be the case with this girl. This was the source of his confusion.

He leaned in abruptly, the movement eerily close as his muzzle hovered just inches from hers. His breath came slow but audible, a predator’s rasp in the air. "Does Leora—think... Redrum needs—it?" he muttered, voice low and rough like the scrape of metal on stone. His head tilted sharply, feline-like, mechanical as his gaze searched hers for a crack in her conviction. His muscles twitched involuntarily, a shiver running down his spine. He half wanted to elicit some sense of dread from her, even at the risk of sending her fleeing from him.

"Lea should—fear more, if not—Redrum." he said suddenly, bluntly, as if the words had escaped before he could consider them further. If it was the right course of action. His voice softened after a beat, almost thoughtful, as an answer came to mind. "Why not? Is it... broken—in Leora?" The question wasn’t meant as cruel, but it came out harsh, his lack of tact bleeding through. He blinked, as if realizing too late that his words might have hit wrong, but instead of retreating, he stayed close, too close still, his golden eyes locked on hers. Soft fleckings of green shining through as though her own emerald orbs brought it out of the depths of his gaze.

Her mention of hunting redirected his scattered thoughts, pulling him back to steadier ground. His ears swiveled forward, his body angling toward her as he absorbed her words. She understood the thrill of a worthy opponent, the respect earned in a real fight. That recognition settled some of his earlier discomfort, his fur flattening slightly. "Weak prey—hollow victories. No challenge." he agreed slowly, the words matter of fact. His gaze lingered, narrowing slightly as his mind wandered to past hunts—reassuring his own belief.

When she bumped his shoulder, he froze momentarily, his hackles bristling at the unexpected contact. His lips twitched upward into a soundless, uneven smirk-snarl, though his lips flickered with uncertainty. "DayDreamer," he murmured, his tone teetering between amusement and predatory. "Thinks she is... strong—enough for Redrum?" His golden gaze traced her face again, scanning her freckles, the steady confidence in her green eyes. His stare lingered too long, as if he were searching for something. Not that he could pry the answer out of her eyes.

"When?" he asked abruptly, his voice low and gravelly as he shifted his weight, moving to stand and tower over her smaller frame. The muscles beneath his ruddy fur rippled with restless energy, chin tilted almost fully down to maintain eye contact. "Redrum is curious—already." His eyes burned into hers, sharp and unrelenting. "What Lea—does... when cornered. When—pushed." The crimson brute tilted his head sharply, his ears flicking back briefly before snapping forward again, a sound caught but filed away as harmless somewhere behind him. "Does she—bleed easy?" The question came without warning, jarring and inappropriate, but his voice held no malice. He tilted his head again the other way, curiosity sharpening his features. "Not much fun... if Leora can’t—take it." After all, Redrum hunted to kill, and he most certainly fought to win. "Nothing to lose, yes?" he added after a beat, his voice dropping to a low rumble. His lips pulled into another twitching grin, this one sharper, his teeth briefly flashing as he watched her. The still healing scar along his cheek stretching almost painfully. There was no threat in his tone, not truly, but the challenge was unmistakable. The admiration in his gaze, faint as it was, lingered at the edges, like the flicker of a flame catching something dry.

"Murder"