~VICTIM OF GLUTTONY~

CHAPTER 3: Catch and Release

The dense forestry hung quietly overhead, as a faint purr rumbled in Wren's ears. She began to crack her eyelids open to view the thick foliage above, as she sat up slowly. Her stomach growled, and Wren rubbed her head. She grunted, looking at the translucent talon that took her natural limb's place, and studied a bit further. She ran a finger down its interior, feeling nothing but icy material. Almost like metal, yet lightweight and easily maneuverable. She flexed the newfound muscle, as a couple cracks emitted from the cold joints within. She looked to her side to see a familiar, blood stained axe and her tattered backpack. She gasped, remembering the searing pain of the brand given by her former captor. She whined, lifting her shirt to find a hardened shell of blood covering it, along with a few dried streaks. She sighed, but felt something cold press her left cheek from behind. Her voice became two toned, as her head spun to meet... Not Maxwell, that was certain. The black figure laughed, as it's many eyes trailing one side of the body stated into her. She backed up, her eyes wide with a newfound fear.
"Wha.. What are you? M-Maxwell? "
This only caused the figure to double over, their gasps becoming increasingly apparent. It regained its composure, and smiled.
"In his dreams, Songbird. But you don't need to know that."
The beast had long, lavender antennae and maroon eyes, with a soft flash of light matching Wren's own quickened heartbeat. The shadow reached a claw to Wren's face, taking the soft flesh in hand.
"I'd ask your name, but he already told me. I know everything, Wren. From the reason you came here to the song your father favored the most. Your life is quite sad, actually. I guess we pity you. "
Wren huffed, grabbing at the wrist of the being. The figure took the hunt, and pulled it's hand away.
"Besides, it's not like I would ever wanna hurt you. We are in your debt, actually. Well, part of it. Most of it goes to the wretched book, but for your form.. You gave us shape, songbird. And now, we are one. For example, smell that rabbit? It's only a few yards away. It's wounded. "
Wren felt her face contort in confusion, but then it but her like a freight train. That metallic, unforgettable smell of broken flesh and warm blood. Her mouth began to slightly water, as she swallowed back a whine. The beast growled.
"Doesn't it smell good? Aren't we hungry?"
As if on command, Wren struggled to get to her feet. Her stomach let loose a loud churn, and she gripped her abdomen in pain. But, forgetting the fresh wound, sucked the air in through her teeth. Her eyes watered, as her head turned to find that rabbit, limping alongside a small riverbank. Wren felt a new feeling of bloodlust, as two small fangs sprung up from her bottom jaw. She slowly approached the rabbit, those once soft pools of brown in her eyes fading to a lustful crimson, her mouth overflowing with thick saliva. The rabbit stopped, its back legs marred by some other beast, gazing at her like a deer in headlights. It had no time left.
"That's it. Break its puny throat between your jaws, you're starving, you need it. It's gonna die anyway."
A faint, two toned snarl bounced around her vocal cords, and, with a single strike, the rabbit was between her sharpened fangs. Wren blinked, as the rabbit squirmed in her grasp.
Too much.
Wren eased the pressure of her jaws around the rabbit's throat, as the being hissed.
"KILL IT! DO IT! PLEASE! I'M STARVING, KILL IT!"
That surge of hunger tore through her once more, her jaw was tightening.
Wait, no, nonono!
An audible crack rang through the forest, as the rabbit gave a dying heave. It fell limp, as warm blood dribbled down her chin. Her claw sunk into the marred creature's flank, using raw muscle to tear it apart for her own leisure. The beast was starving, as it satisfied its growing need with the small rodent. Wren pulled back, using her new talon to tear into the soft underbelly, and feasted upon the entrails. The beast gave a satisfied sigh after eating its fill, as Wren's fangs scraped against the blood stained ribcage. Licking her lips, she pulled away, looking at the bludgeoned creature before them. Wren's eyes widened, but felt.. Satisfied? Wren turned to the beast, who cupped her face in its claws.
"Who.. Who are you?"
The silhouette smiled, its eyes meeting hers.
"Darling, you can call me Animosity."