l i v i n i a.
She stares at the broken rabbit lying prone between her hooves with a sense of fascination. She watches as the furry creature’s chest rises and falls in ragged breaths. She’d broken the creature’s back. She was sure of this - she’d felt the bones give way beneath her hooves. She lowers her nose to the creature, inhaling deeply. It was an unnecessary action, sure, but the scent of blood and of death seemed to trigger something within her - some instinct that had been dormant until this moment.
The creature had stilled. Blood dripped slowly onto the dry, sunbaked earth below. Something stirred within her - something akin to hunger but not quite the same. So the girl sinks her teeth into the flesh. Equine teeth were not made for this purpose, but the flesh gives way all the same and the filly drinks greedily.
It wasn’t much, but what she was able to drain from the animal was enough. For the first time in her young life, she felt sated. There was no revulsion in her mind, only relief. She could feel the viscous liquid dripping from her lips as she raised her head. She frowned at the scene - not at the dead creature, at the mess she’d made in her attempt to feed. It felt clumsy and that made her uncomfortable.
She huffed, upset by the lack of an obvious solution.
such is life, such is death.
She had never seen blood before. If there had been anything like it at her birth, of course those memories had been jumbled up and faded away the farther she got away from that night. The stark redness of it against the soft pink of the other filly’s nose is incredible, gross, messy, fascinating, and strange all at once. She recognizes the girl, of course, as being her teacher’s daughter - though Beyza’s a little embarrassed to have forgotten the name she had been told. Perhaps it started with an L?
She moves closer, propelled by her curiosity, and visibly flinches when the scent of the blood reaches her. There’s an instinct telling her to back off, something that is rooted deep within her, but the simple fact that she should leave is why she approaches until she’s close. Without any sense of boundaries yet, Beyza lowers her head to sniff at the remains of the mangled, dead rabbit. Her white eyes are difficult to track, but they move to look at the girl - to look at the blood on her face.
Up close, she can see that the blood is focused around the girl’s mouth. As though she was attempting to eat the creature.
She thinks to ask why but that isn’t the question that comes out. “Did it taste good?” Her voice is soft but with the blunt sort of curiosity found in the young. Her head tilts when she looks back down at the rabbit, her disgust continuing to lose the fight against her curiosity.
something borrowed into something new