A Willing Companion

When light finally begins to fill the sky, Tanitha blinks for the first time since last night’s incident. Her eyes burn as her lids fall closed. Liquid quickly builds in a desperate attempt to soothe the stinging. She inhales sharply, as words begin to form and run wild in her head. As if some kind of compulsion fills her, she gets a sudden need for meat. She needs real meat.

It's been so long since she's had a proper meal.Tanitha licks her lips as the sound of her rumbling stomach fills her ears. It's been so long.

Her fingers travel up the slopes of her face, latching onto her mask and pulling it down. It bunches up against the curve of her jaw, the starchy fabric prickling her skin uncomfortably. She looks at her hand. The skin is brown and textured with small scars. Maybe... maybe just a little taste. As soon as the rough skin of her hand makes contact with her lips, she bites down, barely stifling a yelp. Her eyes water even more, the liquid somehow finding the gall to travel down the hills of her cheeks.

Her eyes open and focus on nothing as she’s forced to bite harder.

As this strange sensation that can only be described as a tickling in her ear develops, a sense of realization begins to build. What is she doing? Why can't she stop? Tanitha wrangles control of this limb and attempts to pulls her jaws open. Stop. It doesn’t stop. She doesn’t stop.

Please.

Tanitha has never begged for anything. Not food. Not shelter. Not her life. Never. But as this familiar feeling of helplessness envelopes her, she almost cries out to the gods. It’s like her body isn’t her own. Almost as if someone else is inside of her. But Tanitha knows why she feels like this, and she hisses at herself for being so stupid last night. Manifesting a spirit is an entirely different thing from merely bringing its image to her realm.

The repercussions always lie with her, and they’re always in the form of something particularly aggressive. The first time she did it, she was hit with a rush of adrenaline so powerful that her entire system went into a state of fight or flight. Had she not been around seasoned warriors, she might have actually killed someone.

The second time she did it, delusions clouded her mind. She swore that the sky was aflame and came very close to slitting her own throat after claiming that the heat was unbearable.

It’s like the spirits imprint on her. They leave a little parting gift for allowing them to walk on the mortal plane once more, though their definitions of gifts are usually not the same as her own.

This one, for example, she could do without.

Her teeth tear at her flesh, causing warm blood to leak down her palm.

But the tickling intrusion is disappearing and her jaws are losing their power. Her eyes open, and her teeth finally release their hold on her hand. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees that the druid has come closer. He watches her, his face the perfect picture of horror and confusion. Tanitha spits to her left. Her blood is black, thick, and bitter.

The taste is likely due to her dabble with drugs.

As she takes a sip of her liquor, her hands trembling to the point that she misses her mouth multiple times, Vahkul finds it in himself to speak up, “What was that?” She usually likes a man that’s straight to the point, sadly for him, she dislikes a man that’s nosy. Thankfully, her heart has stopped its erratic beating, so her breathing is regulated enough to respond.

“A display of our benevolent gods’ sense of humor, surely.” She’s as eloquent as ever with her delivery. The gods must hate her. They give her this gift, yet plague her with curses after every use. Vahkul shakes his head, yet still finds it in himself to come closer. When Tanitha feels his hands on hers, she jumps. His thumb drags over the teeth marks left embedded in her hand, and her skin warms in response.

The druid’s eyes remain focused on his task, even as he speaks. “That’s so strange. When you’re conscious there’s no resistance, yet when you sleep, it’s as if your aura fights against my own.” His words mean nothing to her, yet she can’t help but feel as though they hold some kind of weight.

He finishes and releases her hand. She looks towards the entrance of the cave. “The rain has stopped. It shouldn’t start up again for a couple of weeks. That’s plenty of time for you to figure out the lay of the land on your own. I would suggest aquiring a weapon before you go exploring though.” She rises, packing her things.

Vahkul doesn’t say anything as he watches her, which is for the best. Tanitha doesn’t know how much longer she can keep up this whole good person act anyway. “So, is there any chance you can give me back the things you’ve stolen from me?” Pulling up her mask and hood, she shakes her head.

“I’m afraid that won’t happen beetle. Consider it my payment for sticking by your side for this long. Food, shelter, and wisdom don’t come free you know.” He shrugs, oddly silent.

This is when Tanitha takes a good look at him. Again, she sees what he doesn’t want her to see. He’s trying to hide the trembling of his fingers with his thighs, and he’s loosened his hair to cover the constant stream of sweat flowing across his forehead.

His white brows are furrowed, like there’s some kind of pain bouncing between the walls of his skull.

He’s hurting.

He’s scared.

She did this to him, so she should fix it.

Turning, she leaves with not another word passing through her lips.

She doesn’t make it five steps out of the cave before he comes running after her, albeit quite hesitantly. “Gold.” He says. “I’ll make it worth your while if you can get me back to Velshlind.” His face is so full of light that she can’t bare to look at him for too long. A better person might call it hope, but she’s not a better person.

Rubbing at her eye, she speaks, “Enough to buy me two drakoens and then some.” He nods, his white hair swishing as he does. He doesn’t even know how much a single drakoen costs, and she doesn’t bother telling him. Her hand tightens on the loop of her bag’s strap.

“Enough to buy two drakoens, land, a house, and servants if that is what you wish.” The amono cocks her head to the side, weary of the man that would offer her a fortune just for escorting him through her lands. He carries nothing of value on him, and he’s an orphan. What money could he possibly possess?

But then her mind starts to run wild.

That’s quite a bit of coin... And they have made no contract that explicitly states how she must spend it. Should he not keep his side of this little bargain, she can always kill him and sell his blood. She licks her lips. “Fine. But you listen to what I say, and do as I say when I say it. I don’t need little beetles getting me killed.”

His eyes widen like he can’t possibly believe that she’s accepted his proposal, or that she believed him. She doesn’t bother saying that if he’s lying to her, he will be dead long before they reach the coast. Tanitha waves her hand at him. “Come now, it won’t stay light out forever, and I’m in grave need of a washing.”

She smells of ash and death and vomit, that last one being courtesy of her near fatal overdose.

The druid wrinkles his nose, as if just now taking in the stale yet stinging scent lingering in the air. He sniffs himself and gags as he does. Tanitha laughs at the expression tugging at his features. Maybe in Velshlind they have baths that travel with them, but here, they make do with what’s available in nature.

There should be a river running no more than a mile north of where they’re at, but the pair will have to backtrack if Vahkul is to make it home. She doesn’t tell him that as they start on their journey, sure that she’ll only be triggering his never-ending nagging if she does.

Tanitha peers over her shoulder at him, only for a quick moment. Their eyes meet, and she turns away as she feels the second pair materialize almost instantly. It’s only then that she realizes that the hunger previously scrunching up in her insides is gone.

Guess it was a gift after all.