just underneath the skin

I need to think. I need space. Far away from anything that could remind me of Katsumi, or the rats swelling in her abdomen. But nowhere is far enough. She’s in my head, on my tongue, and I can still remember the warmth of her between my teeth when she came to me in the night. It was such a sweet victory then. Now it’s a rancid flavor in my mouth. One wrong word from her, and I am a dead man. It’s no consolation to me that she will be dead, too, by my hand.

In my anxious state, I roam the loner lands, keeping my distance from Iromar while I clear my head. It’ll be obvious to anyone who knows me that something is amiss, and I don’t know how far the news of my imprinting has spread. I can’t run the risk. When I return I need to be cool and collected. Focused. Here I’m free to be maddened, half-crazed. No one cares if I snap out here. Everyone is fair game in the loner lands, and tonight I have a hair-trigger.

The Woodlands surround me, rough, vertical tree trunks darting ever upward into the starless sky. I wind my way around them, darting through the forest on swift, agile paws, going nowhere. Simply moving. But voices waft into my stream of consciousness – a female speaking some broken language I’ve never heard before, and then a male with a more familiar tongue. I break from my path and follow the sounds through the trees: the male’s back comes into sight first, and the female’s face looms beyond him in the shadows. I recognize her scent, at least. She’s Iromar, too, but no one I’m familiar with. Safe.

I don’t know what her intentions are with the male, and I don’t really care. Because I’ve laid claim to him, now. He’s not one of us, and he carries no markings – instead, he’s red all over, like Dante’s useless imprint – which makes him the perfect punching bag. I casually announce myself by clearing my throat and taking a seat on the forest floor. “Evening,” I say off-handedly. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

four ;; Demon King x Blood Mouth ;; no partner ;; angel dust Iromar