~VICTIM OF GLUTTONY~

CHAPTER 4: Pyromania

The dawn was settling over horizon, as Wren looked to the darkened forest behind her. She had established a base, which consisted of a fire pit, a small tent she rarely used, and a couple chests. She was still working on it, but it was coming along. Wren sat down, watching as the lasts specks of daylight fizzled out, and feeling the cool breeze of nightfall envelope her. She began to him a faint tune, the shadow joining. She smiled, happy to have some sort of company, as Animosity clung to her shoulder. She was purring, relaxing as the faint burn of the stars about have scarce light. She felt Animosity brush the hair out of her darkened eyes, as Wren have a small yawn. They looked at her with concern, and slunk away, knowing they couldn't trick her into sleeping. Ever since they met, Wren refused to sleep. No matter how much they begged, how much the made her look at the tent longingly, nothing made her want to sleep. All she could do was gaze at the soft embers of the fire. Wren gently placed the claw into the flame, only to be met with some sort of feeling within it. Not pain. Wren places her normal hand near, a bit too near, only to be met with the strong burn. She sucked the air in through her teeth, pulling her hand away. Her talon felt nothing but a soft, familiar tingle. She smiled, feeling the cold, metallic limb warm up, but saw a faint orange glow in the dark. The wind brushed her hair into her face, as she began to frantically search for those golden orbs that accompanied the strange glow the first time. A snarl worked into her throat, as her talon danced on the wood of her axe. She stood, her lips curled into a worried grimace, but the snarl faded away when a shoe stepped into the light. Although, it was nothing like Maxwell's dress shoes, as they were dirtied with blood and dust, and a skirt joined it. It hung just above the ankles, followed by a red long sleeve. Wren dropped her axe to be met with milky white eyes, and a sad, starved look. Her hair was pulled back into pitch black pigtails, and Wren felt the long spines protruding from her back in a panic. The frills cracked together, making a warning. The woman hunched away in response, clutching her stomach. She let out a soft whine, in too much pain to talk. Wren's eyes softened out of pity, and reached out her talon into the shade. The woman took it, feeling the warmth from the fire. She nuzzled into it, and Wren pulled her into the light. She looked starved, as her eyes filled with fear. Wren opened her mouth to speak, but, nothing came. Instead, she gently guided the woman near the fire, sitting her down. Wren dug around in the chest, pulling out a skinned moleworm. She turned to find the woman warming herself up, grateful for the light. She looked to her host, and smiled. Wren grabbed the moleworm, ripping the meat from it, a gruesome sight to be sure. But, she had gotten a large enough chunk to skewer on a stick and roast on the fire. The woman shrunk back, not wanting to get in Wren's way. She gave a reassuring smile, knowing how terrible it felt to be so hungry for so, so long. The flesh began to turn a few shades darker, and Wren handed the morsel to her. She looked at it in shock, her eyes darting to meet Wren's for a split second. She began to slowly eat, seeming self conscious, but it didn't take long for her to finish. Wren nudged to the tent.
"You can stay. I don't mind it at all. You look exhausted."
The woman shook her head, but got up anyway. She walked towards Wren once more, and sat next to her. Her eyes were on the talon, Which Wren was still testing heat with. The woman gently reached for it, catching Wren off guard. The woman held the warm claw in her hands, and she smiled. Was she cold? Needing comfort? All Wren could do was watch. The woman, after what seemed like a long period of silence, finally spoke out.
"Thank you. Thank you for letting me stay."
Wren smiled, running her fingers through the woman's hair.
"You're good, I don't mind some company. What's your name?"
The woman stayed quiet a few minutes more, before opening her mouth to respond. She was awfully quiet, hunched against Wren for comfort. Wren was a little bit taller, two inches at most.
"I'm Willow. But please don't make me leave. Please. "
Fear pricked at Willow's voice, but Wren could only respond with a soft sigh.
"Don't worry about it. From now on, You can stay in that tent. You don't need to stay out there anymore."
Willow smiled, wrapping her arms around her new camp mate.
"Thank you."