Advent of Chaos

9

It was merely two more minutes of pure empty and cold silence, his feet tapping lightly against the cool metal flooring of the ship's interior. Toryn scanned this scene-- Ankou's arms remained tightly wrapped around a shivering Mora.

"Do I even want to know?" He rolled his eyes slowly, and turned back on his heel. He didn't bother inspecting further, perhaps in fear of finding something disturbing.

"Just don't worry about it, alright?" Ankou looked up at his friend from the floor, smiling wickedly, as if to suggest something.

"Don't worry, I only screamed at the top of my lungs alone in a room with the woman who fucked up the left side of my face." Toryn mocked his friend, but left anyway, and practically slammed the door behind him.

Only then did Mora move, pushing herself up by applying pressure to his wounded chest. His tunic was bloodied, but not badly. She assumed this was because his wound was almost instantaneously cauterized.
"Why did you lie to him?" She asked, her face red hot with rage. It was so pure-- so utterly hot and cold at the same time that she could hardly contain the color.

"Did you want him to cage you?" He bared his teeth, trying to wipe away the memory of her warmth on his body. A futile attempt.
"No!-- No.. I just.. Think I could've explained better... Let me see the wound." Mora reached a hand out, but he backed away, his fist curling at the buttons of his tunic. Well, the remnants of his tunic. It was nearly in ribbons because of her, and not to mention his skin. That, too, might as well have been in ribbons.

"I don't think you should touch it." Ankou shook his head in opposition to her, pushing himself up from the floor and stepping further back so that his free hand rested on the door knob.
"Toryn warned me you'd 'maul' me again. But I didn't think you'd grow fiery claws." He smiled slightly, a nervous grin as he attempted to lighten the mood. "Last time I checked, Sunsingers were like Phoenixes. Never once heard of them being as hungry and wild as you, Mor."

"Don't call me that." Mora warned, her eyes glistening with the same corrupt gold the flames on her claws were. She still tasted his fear-- the tangy and sweet flavor on her tongue and in her nostrils-- even from across the room.

"Why? Is that Uriel's thing?" Ankou's face heated, and Mora felt that anger as it came.

"What the hell is your problem with Uriel? The man hasn't done a damn thing to you." Perhaps she struck a nerve, because she saw something not far from melancholy strike through his features. She didn't care. She felt that hatred as it tainted his features, and she was sure he felt her's too.

"You seem very close with him. Why don't you go ruin his life instead?" Mora only saw him wince while speaking, the only evidence that he was talking mostly out of his ass. Though he'd never admit it.

"You want me to leave? You walked in. Why don't you leave? I'm willing to work with Toryn, but you?" The rise and fall of her shoulders grew more frequent, and her eyes widened to a point were she was sure she'd kill him if she lost herself again.

"Go to hell, bitch." Ankou spat, twisting the door's handle angrily as he pushed his way out-- through the shoulder of a quite confused Toryn.

"I'd rather drown in Hive ichor than work with you again." Mora shouted, and meant it.

So, back to the old days.