His claws dig deeper into my flesh, "Who are you?" His voice is muffled against my throat but I can still here the intensity in his voice as his warm breath tickles my neck. Whenever a fey meets someone, they can't help but notice their unique smell, this male smells of the grotto itself- and unease. He doesn't know I'm fey
Normally one's muscles would be tense, but mine are loose. He is inexperienced, his posture is all wrong. I sweep my left leg backwards hitting him behind the knees. The male topples over and lands on the ground with a grunt.
I turn to face him, his pants are made of the same silk leaves as my cloak, they start at his hips and end just below the knee. And of course he's shirtless, because that's a smart idea. Somehow this fey manages to pull off a lean body yet still have a six pack. His skin has a golden tint, as if he spends great amounts of time in the sun. His long shoulder length hair is a dark chocolate brown, melting its self down his neck.
I turn my attention back to the current situation, meeting his dark emerald eyes with my ice ones. "First rule when attacking someone is that you should angle your claws upwards, towards the heart. Second, is that you should never put her teeth to another fey's throat; I could have clawed your eyes out." And then, only then, do I let myself smile.
The male looks awestruck, his mouth opens and closes a few times before finally emitting a sound, "You... Your female?" I drop my smile, It's a question, he's unsure.
I push back my hood and shift my weight so that my hip juts out from beneath my shapeless cloak. "Do I look like I'm male?"
"C-certainly not... It's just..." The male looks down at himself and shakes his head. Sighing I hold out my hand, after a moment his rough calloused hand finds mine. Careful as to not stab him or myself, I pull him to his feet. His tan tail curls around his waist, the hairs at the end match those on his head. He inclines his head to me. I stare at him with my cold gaze I've had centuries to perfect, his face flushes but his voice does not waver, "My name is Zair."
For the fair folk stating your name first tells the others around you that you submit to them. I curl my lips upward slightly, "Wise choice, my name is Ezabell, but you can call me Eza."
Zair Dipped his head even lower, so that it appears he is looking at his bare feet and the leaves beneath, "I could not call a lady I just had the pleasure of meeting by her informal name."
I dismiss his submissive behavior with a wave of my hand, my silver claws clinking together like wind chimes, "So tell me about this grotto, Zair."
He tenses up at the mention of his name on my lips. Sucker, males are so globule, their brains seem to turn to mush the moment a female is in their presence. "You look tense. . . am I bothering you," I give a fake pout,"I could leave if-"
"Certainly not," Zair seems to regain his composure, "I was just a little shocked to meet another fey."
"Why does this shock you? Surely you see other fair folk all the time since you live near the grotto." What started out as a teasing statement turned into a genuine question. Why aren't there other fey around?
After a moment of silence, Zair speaks, "The humans have almost wiped us all out. To tell the truth, I thought I was the only one left..."
There's an unmistakable sadness in his eyes, an emptiness that can only be caused by the loss of someone you hold dear. I've seen this look too many times before, slowly I place my right hand on his shoulder. Zair gives me a small sad smile, before saying, "They ambushed our family while we were out hunting. They came out of no where," his smile falters, "They had fey, if you could even call them that, they were loyal to their human masters. They were after my mother. My father and older brother fought against the brutes till their last breath. I was only a kit, I could do nothing as I saw them close in on my mother where I watched from behind the willows. I had to watch as my mother slit her throat with her own claws."
The sad emptiness that was in Zair's eyes moments before is replaced by a cold fit of rage.
I frown, dropping my hand from his shoulder "Wow, wasn't that a sob story?"
Zair snarls "Never mind" and shoves his hands behind his back.
He was so open, I just met the guy, why would he tell me about his past? Because he wants you to feel sorry for him
I bare my teeth, the long canines send a clear message: don't mess with me
Zair narrows his emerald eyes and looks into mine, I wasn't messing with you
Like the Cosmos you weren't I spin on my heel, my tan and red tail flinging behind me like a whip. Lifting my chin and raise my slender tail, I hold up my hand in a backwards wave, "Goodbye Zair, I hope our paths meet again some time." Before he can issue another word I'm out of the willow forest and beneath the giant rotten log. I pull my silky hood up to shield my eyes from the bright sunlight. Since I just took a bath, I'm in no mood to get moldy gunk all over me again from this wretched hunk of wood.
It takes me three hours to climb around the moldy log, when my feet finally land on the other side the sun has set and I'm in the dark once again.
No no no, I must have lost track of time while I was in the grotto. I haven't traveled enough today, the humans could have tracked me and be waiting just around the corner.
A twig snaps near by, a rush of nerves flow through my veins and I scramble to claw my way up the nearest tree. Once seated on a thick limb, I pear over the edge to the leaf cluttered ground. It must have been my imagination, it was playing tricks on me. I'm just nervous because of Zair's story.
I lean into the limb and snuggle into my cloak. I pull my tail through the hole in the back so it can be in the warm cloak as well. It only takes seconds before I'm fast asleep.
Hours later I crack my eyes open, expecting to be blinded by the sun's golden rays, But instead I'm met with a black shadow of darkness. I turn my angular face up to the sky, little stars twinkle from far away galaxies, as if trying to communicate.
I shift onto my side to go back to sleep when a light catches my eye. A faint glow is coming from the other side of log Zilla, smoke dances and swirls into the sky.
Idiot Zair made a campfire. A freaking campfire. A beacon that can be seen from miles Away, it's like a huge arrow telling the humans here I am! Come kill me!
Swishing my tail back through my cloak for balance I carefully stand on the thick limb. I shouldn't go over there, I could lead myself into danger, he should know better anyway, and-
A hound howls in the distance.
Go help Zair: turn to chapter 4
Stay where you are: turn to chapter 5
Flee: turn to chapter 6
YOU ARE READING
Undomesticated
FantasyIn the country of Azia, Creatures known as the fair folk lurk in the forests. They are a rare breed, being hunted almost to extinction, but now they are know as a status symbol upon the rich. They are kept as pets but are also used as entertainment...
