KERSEY || this would be a place for a quote
Kult and I are prowling the forest when we find her. The impossible child.
Hunting is always best during dusk, when creatures are lulled into believing that night is safe. Streaks of color paint the sky. Nature tells her creation that nothing bad could possibly happen while such pinks and oranges and reds exist. Beauty, however, comes in many forms and I happen to believe that the end of life can be as breath taking as the end of the day.
She is standing in her grave, a mass of dried plants and scraped dirt clinging to her spindly legs. Her foggy eyes are unseeing, unfocused. Sharp new bones poke against her skin. She is young. Younger even than I was when I first took a life. Mother's milk should drip from her lips, but it does not. If she were one of Khaos' children, she would not be alone.
She calls for her mother but the silence that greets her plea as well as the rooted ground tells me that there is no one around except Kult, the girl and I. At first I think that she is prey (almost too easy) and I turn to raise a brow at Kult, wondering if he will want first blood. A sudden thought itches my brain and I turn back towards the girl, confused.
“Kult. Look.”
I move aside so he can see, nosing the brittle leaves reaching out from the girl. Why, in this lush forest where everything is green and growing, is there a ring of dead things around the child? It almost looks as if the moisture has been sapped until nothing is left. My purple eyes follow the trail of water to find it nestled in the hollows of her body. A slow, lazy grin appears on my face.
“She's special, this one. Kirin will want to see her.” I have moved from contemplating her death moments ago to saving her life. I nudge the filly, not ungently. “Mother's gone. I'm Kersey, and this is Kult.”
I touch my nose briefly to my brother's side, letting him take the lead.
