The TwiceBorn

This Horror Unheeded

 "I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe."--Mary Shelley

Blixen was snoozing.  Curled up in a greasy ball of fur with his hands wrapped protectively around his penis, he was dreaming of Sabbats passed when he heard Aubery and Gre.  The sounds of the fracas carried well on the hot breeze as he sat up and looked around, bleary-eyed.

His beady little eyes narrowed.  Dropping to his belly (after carefully arranging what he was most proud of) he scooted through the grass to get a closer view.  A raspy little chuckle escaped his throat as he took in the sight of Gre on horseback and Aubery slowly getting back to his feet.

“Get down off your horse, you son of a bitch!”  Aubery screeched as he brought his sword up.  Mud had coated one side of his face and part of his hair.  The muck had swirled his greasy hair up in a tangle and given him the look of a half-drowned scruffed puppy. Gre roared with laughter, his headache forgotten.  Aubery charged again but this time Gre was ready.  He turned his horse and urged the grulla into a trot and managed to stay, maddeningly one step ahead of the boy.

“You’re wasting daylight Aubery!” Gre chortled as he heard the boy’s labored breathing. 

Blixen yawned and stretched. 

‘Underlings. So funny when they grapple with each other...” He thought, scratching himself.  The possibility of them killing each other flitted across his mind and he grinned, exposing a row of yellow misshapen teeth.  He was bound to the Twiceborn, true, but he couldn’t help it if they killed each other all on their own now could he? Oh, and the time he could have with the bodies!  His hand stopped scratching and began a slow exploration.

“Step…”  Aubery’s voice was coming in gasps as the heat of the day tightened itself around him.  “…down.”

His sword arm was beginning to waver and drag.

“You…sorry…bastard!”  He managed to wheeze, before he stopped and placed his hands on his knees to gasp for air.  Gre pulled up a short distance away.

“Maybe if your mother had slapped your ass a bit more like that, you wouldn’t be in the state you’re in now.”  Gre goaded.  He hated to admit it, but he was enjoying himself.  Nothing would please him more than seeing the boy drop over in the heat.

“C’mon Aubery, is that all you’ve got?”  Gre chided, a delighted grin stretched across his face.  Aubery glanced up, his eyes murderous behind strips of sweat-soaked hair.

“Sorry fucking bastard.” He muttered, as he gulped in air.

           Blixen had seen enough.  Raising one sticky little paw to his face, he fastidiously licked each talon as he watched the scene before him.  His lips, like two raw pieces of pig’s liver, split into a scummy little grin as he straightened himself up to his full height.  He was a tiny creature though and neither Gre nor Aubery saw him. 

Blixen stood motionless for a few moments, a frown starting to work at the corners of his mouth.   A rattling noise, like the rustle of dried cornstalks,started up as he began to grind his teeth together.  With a disdainful snort, Blixen moved over into a patch of trampled grass and delicately placed two of his crusty talons in his mouth and gave a piercing whistle.

 Gre squinted as his attention was caught by a sharp trill off to Aubery’s left.

“What is that?  A mole?”    Gre leaned forward in his saddle and frowned.

Aubery turned.  His eyes widened and his anger with Gre was instantly forgotten.  The sword slipped and fell to the ground, unnoticed.

“What…what in the name of Brede IS that?”  Aubery repeated with wonder.