Gale
this is going to break me clean in two --
this is going to bring me close to you
When he’d ripped out Ciri’s heart, there’d been nothing at all behind the mask. Nothing tangible anyway - only a roiling pit of rage and a craving for chaos. The Curse that afflicts Gale’s family is the urge to destroy, to raze and take and wreck and plunder, and Ciri has felt that first hand.
But that was then, and this is now.
When he’d taken the light from Mazikeen’s soul, most of it had vanished into the ether. But some had clung to him, infecting him, changing him. The presence of emotions that were not fury had altered him in ways he had not anticipated. The Curse is no longer entirely sure what it is.
There are a great many uncertainties, but some things remain the same.
Like how the wariness in her gaze delights him. And how her fury, especially when he doesn’t answer, explodes into action.
He laughs as she lunges at him, and ducks beneath her wing to try and wrap his sharp-toothed jaws around her neck. But she comes with hooves as well, driving him back. Rather than retreat, he reappears beside her, still grinning despite the scrape along his shoulder that heals even as he speaks.
“You’re gotten much feistier.” He says, taking a step forward. His lightning eyes are wild, and his tongue wets the edges of his toothy mouth, feeling hunger far deeper than the need to fill his stomach. “I like it.”
Will she attack him again?
He hopes so.
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