Dance, my little puppets,

Spr/1.6/02  

     An uncommon gesture for demons was displayed across Näkki’s features when Maeve showed the confidence to follow her. It was a brief approving twinkle in her eyes, accompanied with an upward movement of her lips as she turned to continue leading Maeve into Iromar when the young female had joined her. Her accepted gesture had solidified in Näkki’s mind, her claim to Maeve, whether her precious prey truly knew the meaning behind the action or not. Such affection was hard won, and the fact that Maeve had accomplished it, meant the little female would be protected for life by the demon female. It also meant Maeve wouldn’t be allowed to die without permission, and would thus be expected to die on command. However, such expectations were left unsaid by Näkki. They would come the more the twos relationship developed.

     Näkki’s ear twitched at Maeve’s comment. It was interesting… Maeve already knew far more about who she was from there encounter than if she had simply blathered an introduction. But she supposed, she’d rather be called “Näkki” than that woman-who-once-chased-me.

     “You might call me Näkki,” she responded, leaving the idea for other titles open because she felt another label might come to rise. Näkki had many in mind… but she’d allow Maeve to decide what she wished to view Näkki as. She’d play the roll the pup decided to give to her, for it was the reward she would give for Maeve’s spectacular (or accidental) manipulation.

     She paused brief to analyze the direction that Andras was probably located in. It was in this moment, she received Maeve’s question. The black female was quick to recognize the tones of bitterness. It brought to her mind the question, why did pack life receive such dislike from Maeve? Näkki looked directly at the little wolf to study her posture. Hate? No… not quite. At least Näkki wouldn’t have to reform that. It was curious how a wolf, which as a species was programmed to form packs, became sour on them. Poor treatment, most likely, had caused the resentment. Was she staring into the eyes of a former servitor? If she was, she was impressed with how much such a wolf could grow. The only wolf she’d know in the position was Chael and he was hopeless weakling that couldn’t even manage to look a stranger in the eyes. For years he’d been the same way and never changed. Needless to say, it showed great strength to be able to change, if indeed, Maeve had grown from being a mere omega.

     “All things,” she responded, “In a pack, there is strength and also weakness. There is comfort and also cruelty. What perhaps keeps me loyal is that the pack survives everything together and in being together, there is meaning in existence.”

     She watched Maeve’s reaction, searching for even the slightest twitch of a facial muscle. Her previously goal to find Andras was for the moment, forgotten. Näkki didn’t expect any particular reaction, but was intent on learning more about the young female by observing her. She didn’t find Maeve’s apparent distaste for packs distressing, but she knew that she’d quickly have to resolve the matter if Maeve should meet Andras, who was a strict leader – kind of. Mostly, his pack was given free rein to do whatever they wished, so long as when he gave an order, it was followed to the letter. Could Maeve learn such a way of life? This was the question Näkki was now answering.

Näkki