Regicide

Chapter 9

Blood had reached a small oasis. There was a shallow river of water, and trees which grew and towered over most creatures. If one were to go on for a bit further, then they would reach a small forest. Velociraptors didn't really go that far, they would only go to the edge of the oasis for a refreshing drink. Nearby shrubs sprouted, and Blood was carefully stepping over them and moving towards the stream.

Dune was not far away- in fact, he was behind one of those shrubs. At no point was he detected, and he flexed his claws in anticipation. He watched her carefully move to the body of water, lower herself, and take a few sips, jaws opening and closing ever so slightly.

('Look, he can't even talk because he's so close to death!')

Dune growled softly, and moved away from the shrub, revealing himself. Blood was facing away from him, so she did not notice his presence. She merely kept on drinking, legs half submerged in the liquid.

('You did it... and you're right. He is nothing.')

Dune raised himself up to his full size, and took a step forward.

Blood stopped drinking. She froze for a moment, her nostrils flaring, and her breath came out as a shudder. Slowly, she raised up her head, and turned around. Her electric blue eyes widened when she realised just who had been waiting behind her. There was a small reticence, as if she was arguing with herself on if what she was seeing was real or not- he was meant to be dead, after all. But there was no mistaking those white markings on his black feathers, or that scar torn into his chest by his sister.

It was Him.

It was Dune.

Dune snorted, staring at her with the smallest hint of hatred in his eyes. Apart from that, the rest of him revealed absolutely no sign of feeling. His tail was not raised, his teeth were not bared- he merely stood there silently, staring at her.

'H-how are you still alive?' She asked, her voice trembling.

Fool. You should be running.

Dune narrowed his eyes, and took another step forward.

She babbled on some more, but he was not paying attention to whatever silly question she was spouting. There was only one thing on his mind.

He took yet another step, feeling water envelop his foot. Her face, which twisted into fear as he inched ever closer, was not what Dune could see- he could only see her smirking at him as he lay on the verge of death, surrounded by her comrades. Among those insignificant faces, there had only been one which had meant anything to him- and it most certainly had not been hers.

Instantly, Blood turned and ran, splashing water up into the air and screeching out in instinctive terror as she sprinted along the small waves. Dune gave chase, his predatory lust fuelling him. The pungent stench of her fear was sucked into his nostrils; his mouth salivated in response. His eyes were narrowed, following her with the insatiable will to kill.

He felt a powerful tingle in his jaws. He wanted to sink his teeth into her flesh, to paint her burgundy feathers with glistening red. She had to die. She had to die. She had to die.

She had hurt him, therefore, she had to die.

The first signs of the forest began to sprout up from either side of the river- plants shot up into the air, bigger and more beautiful than any Dune had ever seen. Trees, which were of an almost mythical status to creatures of the desert, lay at the corners of his eyes, vines intertwining between them. But he did not care. He was incapable of appreciating beauty, or feeling awe or amazement.