12-25-2019, 01:43 PM
She is not shocked when he kills the rabbit. Not the way he might expect, and certainly not the way she expects. It is more shocking how little it seems to affect her, but the young shifter barely reacts, absorbing Leilan's lessons in silence. The night has been overwhelming in its discoveries and Beryl meets Leilan's blue-eyed gaze with her dark, serious one as she comes to inspect the bloodied and frozen young hare. She pats at it gently with the sheathed tips of one paw, nudging the motionless body ever so slightly, remorsefully. Eat. She is still a horse, and she recoils from the idea, but her lion's belly smells the cooling blood and she salivates.
There's still one more lesson for the night, even if he doesn't mean to teach her anything else, and that is dealing with the dueling parts of her nature, learning how to give in to the carnivorous part of her, to convince herself that this is needed. She touches her nose to the hare's, peering into the dimmed, dark, eyes that stare sightlessly like glass beads. That deep, welling, sadness threatens constantly like water domed at the edge of a cup, held in place only by the fragile, trembling surface tension, but there is hunger, too, deep, painful, tearing. It overwhelms and consumes, and the smell of blood unlocks latent instincts. Her rough tongue runs over soft fur and the iron tang explodes across it, compelling her deeper, further, until the equine resistance fades away and teeth tear hungrily into flesh.
It isn't until the biting hunger that has gripped her belly for so long loosens its icy grip and she is licking blood from stained paws that the heaviness falls on her again. Her stomach twists and rebels and a feeling that Beryl is unfamiliar with rushes her, as if her stomach is pouring itself against the back of her throat. She gags, then swallows thickly, something sour on the back of her tongue, but the meal stays down though her small body shudders hard enough to expel it. Her ears lay flat, tail lashing, agitated, and she licks at the snow as though to quell the acid burn in her chest. She coughs and, suddenly remembering that Leilan is still nearby keeping close watch, runs back to him, nuzzling in close against his legs for comfort.
There's still one more lesson for the night, even if he doesn't mean to teach her anything else, and that is dealing with the dueling parts of her nature, learning how to give in to the carnivorous part of her, to convince herself that this is needed. She touches her nose to the hare's, peering into the dimmed, dark, eyes that stare sightlessly like glass beads. That deep, welling, sadness threatens constantly like water domed at the edge of a cup, held in place only by the fragile, trembling surface tension, but there is hunger, too, deep, painful, tearing. It overwhelms and consumes, and the smell of blood unlocks latent instincts. Her rough tongue runs over soft fur and the iron tang explodes across it, compelling her deeper, further, until the equine resistance fades away and teeth tear hungrily into flesh.
It isn't until the biting hunger that has gripped her belly for so long loosens its icy grip and she is licking blood from stained paws that the heaviness falls on her again. Her stomach twists and rebels and a feeling that Beryl is unfamiliar with rushes her, as if her stomach is pouring itself against the back of her throat. She gags, then swallows thickly, something sour on the back of her tongue, but the meal stays down though her small body shudders hard enough to expel it. Her ears lay flat, tail lashing, agitated, and she licks at the snow as though to quell the acid burn in her chest. She coughs and, suddenly remembering that Leilan is still nearby keeping close watch, runs back to him, nuzzling in close against his legs for comfort.
Beryl
Litotes x Mehendi
ooc: if @[Leilan] wants to respond here, he can, but I thought this might be a good place to end this thread and move on to something new that maybe won't make her as sad as eating cute animals does
