Blades on my fingers…
He tightly gripped his left index claw between two fingers and tried to pull it off. His orbs flashed white and a quiet yelp burst from him at the pain. He stopped.
He brought his middle finger to his beak and tried to bite it off, only to yelp once more when a crack appeared, followed by shooting agony down his entire finger.
I cannot remove them. Not without agony. It was like there were little nerves inside them, and his middle one was even producing droplets of purple blood from the tiny split.
Ingram desperately wanted to touch Emerie, but he wanted to enjoy discovering her. He knew he wouldn’t be able to do so if the pain was too distracting.
He wished they would fall off. Why did he have to have such terrible things? Big blades that would hurt this tiny female he craved learning all the secrets of.
What did she mean by touch inside? Like… a wound? That didn’t sound pleasurable.
Go away, he growled at them.
He didn’t care if they fell off or exploded off the tips of his fingers. He didn’t care if that would leave him vulnerable in a fight; he would just use his beak and strength to destroy anything that tried to harm her.
It would be worth it if he could make those soft noises fall from her again, the ones that had his body puffing with the most tingling thrill.
The black, glossy backs of his hard claws glinted in the dappled sunlight that glittered through the tree canopy. The tip of one claw sparkled.
Change. Be human hands. He tried to will it, just like the humanoid transformation of his body.
Nothing happened, and he growled in irritation.
He’d seen some animals’ claws could go back and forth. Not humans, but feline creatures. He wanted to do the same. Go inside!
Ingram yelped sharply when slamming agony shot up every single one of his fingers. Wincing, he brought them to his chest to shield them while curling his body around them protectively. His sight shifted to white.
Yet, the pain dulled before disappearing completely.
He brought his hands forward, only to tilt his head at them. His claws were gone. Well, not truly, but they had retracted.
Inspecting the change, he noted that the curled tips of his claws were not only sitting flush to the flesh of his fingertips, but were snug against them. He couldn’t even separate them.
I did not know I could do this. His tail curled in joy. I can touch her now.
Ingram leapt to his feet to show her, but paused after a single step, knowing she’d be upset if he disturbed her. He didn’t want her to be mad, not when he’d found a solution.
Can I make them extend? Like changing back into his monstrous form, was it possible to have both?
Rather than go to her, he experimented with them. Willing his claws to extend, they slowly slipped forward and, this time, he experienced no pain. It was just as effortless to retract them, and he thought maybe them slamming back was what hurt him before.
He wondered how much longer it would be before Emerie was finished. She was taking a while, and she hadn’t called him over even though he could no longer hear splashing. Her whimpers were still present, but quieter.
I want to go to her, he thought with his sight shifting to blue.
He wanted to comfort her and be the reason she stopped crying. Would showing her he could do this ease her tears? He wanted her to smile at him for it.
“Ingram!” she screamed.
The suddenness of the panicked shriek caused his scales and spikes to lift in dread.
Ingram bolted past the trees to the small clearing where the stream was. Orbs white, he skidded to a halt when he saw her, then froze.
With the sun present, he hadn’t thought he needed to worry. He also couldn’t scent anything dangerous. No humans, no Demons… at least, he hadn’t before he entered the clearing. He’d been distracted while she was alone, unprotected.
And now…
Ingram knew if he charged the strange and unknown Mavka holding the tiny female in their arms, they’d quickly slice her.
They appeared startled, like a deer unsure of what to do now that it’d been caught in its predator’s sight. They’d been moments from sprinting off with a struggling Emerie clawing at the ground. Her hands had just broken off a tree root she’d clung to on the other side of the stream when he broke into their line of sight.
The Mavka stood and stepped back at his presence.
With their long, thin, and sharp claws wrapped around Emerie’s shoulder and side, his heart nearly stopped beating.
Is… was this how the world saw him? Something to be worried and terrified of when near those who the humans cared about? That seeing their companion in a Duskwalker’s long, angular arms – their death likely – struck like a serrated blade of panicked dread in their chest?
He saw a monster holding his colourful butterfly.
Her wide, panicked eyes screamed for help. She’d stopped moving, all except her chest expanding and compressing. Did she remember him telling her squirming only excited him?
There was the lightest tangle of fear in the air. It was too distant to make the invisible hands of bloodlust squeeze his mind into a frenzy, but it was there.
His sight darted away from her pale, freckled features, to the smear of mud in the Mavka’s nose hole. White orbs stared back at him, as small velvet antlers shadowed their rabbit skull.
The Mavka was so thin around the waist that even Emerie’s hips flared wider. It was young, even he knew this. Made even more evident by all the bones that covered its body, from the collar bones to the tops of its long, rabbit-like feet. It stood tall on its toes, and even with the distance between them, he knew it would tower over him.
Lowering himself to a crouch with his hand out, trying to show it he was submitting, all Ingram could do to save Emerie was demand, “Give.”
The Mavka clicked and clacked their jaws, chittering as though trying to communicate. He expected bass and depth, and instead a higher tone sparked from them.
“Please tell him to let me go,” Emerie softly pleaded.
Ingram’s head tilted sharply, and he stepped sideways as he came a little closer. He was able to take in thin ribs, and barely noticeable mounds, but it was the wind blowing towards him that made him realise he could smell two feminine scents.
“She,” Ingram corrected, as a small amount of awe filled him. His sight turned dark yellow in curiosity. “The Mavka is female.”
I have never seen a female Mavka before.
“I don’t care what it is!” she cried, only to wince.
His orbs flashed crimson, and a snarl tore through him. There was no blood in the air, but Emerie’s features twisted as though she was being crushed.
The female Mavka’s orbs mirrored his own, and she parted her fangs to hiss at him. She stepped backwards out of the sun and into the shadows.
White once more filled his sight, and he lowered further with his hand out. “Give.”
Her orbs darkened, and her hissing strengthened. She wasn’t going to give up Emerie.
“I cannot charge her,” he stated aloud, sharing his thoughts with Emerie. “I cannot chase her. She will grow enraged and attack you.”
To be honest, he was unsure why the Mavka hadn’t made a meal of her already. He was thankful for it, though, as it gave him a chance to save her.
“What do I do?” he heard over the growing distance.