it is like they'd conjoined.

her pulse is the kudu's pulse. her ferocity its. their eyes are pinned to each other, her blue and its black.

the soft meat of its snout pushes in, crushes the frail cartilage within. blood pours down the passages, and the throat chokes on it.

she sees every emotion, from fear to pleading to last, desperate anger. she thinks she hears something gurgled through the blood. it is spat at her feet, fresh and bright.

like a curse.

the kudu stills.

sancha still has her jaw locked in place, still breathing with full lungs. cannot see how wide her own pupils have gotten.

the feeling when she unlatches is part relief, part yearning.

the hound licks her flews, turning then to the lion.

saying nothing, but expecting something. her breathing is heavy.

---

we can start winding this one down methinks :)

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fade whenever!

by the time sancha relinquished the thick-smeared flesh which was the kudu's throat, uhuru was sat in the dust to watch. back and forth, the tail and its tuft, a cat's fixed interest on a scene most intriguing.

her eyes are filled with the death and the swallowing of life.

thou has tasted the first commandment: blood.

his long teeth flashed in a grin. the lion slid down to his belly, laving barbed tongue against scarred mouth. thee must first partake.

that was no law nor edict. it was uhuru's decision, as had each portion of their discourse been.

the furred tussock waved again, twitching in the dust.

they had taught her about communion; consumption of flesh. how it brought one closer to the divine.

but the bread always tasted dry. the wine was part water.

she'd only ever come close with a fistful of hair and a head held snug and near. she did not consider those hallelujahs blasphemy.

they hated her at every turn, from the chaste forecourts to the fishmonger streets with water past the height of the chopine. they hated her when she was dirty-faced and kneeling; they hated her pampered and pleased.

and how she wished her smiles were snarls full of fang and spittle.

now she looks at the creature felled by her own strength, her mouth rouged by its life. and she thinks;

is this how God felt, putting the sons of Judah to death

her beastly lips pull back to teeth.

unchallenged

and she bites.

righteous

and she pulls.

divine

the dream flesh of her first kill is not sweet. it is refreshing.

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i'll have a uhhhh new thread set as soon after this one as u please, want to explore the blood moon event at least a couple times more + hopin we manage to rope some more ppl into joining <33

also.