Scorn could not help feeling pleased when Vyvian said that she had been designed to kill. It was, after all, her favorite activity. She watched with interest as he retrieved his device, seeming to know exactly how to manipulate it to make it do what he wanted. From the sound of it, its purpose was much as she had suspected. In fact, his talk of killing and eating was giving her some interesting ideas. She dropped to the ground with a grunt, growling a little. "You won't harm me because if you do I will kill you," she reminded him. She was annoyed that he hadn't fully grasped the concept yet. Unfortunately, for some reason, she was not managing to fill her voice with the bone-chilling authority her father had always used. It would be disappointing if she had to resort to violence to discipline her slave. Withe her wings folded along her back, she stepped closer to Vyvian. When she was within a foot of him, she looked up at his face, frowning. Had he always been this tall? He hadn't seemed this tall when she had been carrying him through the air. "When the storm is done," she said abruptly, "we hunt. We will see if your machine can compete with a real killer." She grinned and ran her tongue over her teeth in anticipation. It didn't take long for her to realize that the storm would still be going on for a while, however, and she wasn't sure what to do with the slave until then. In other circumstances, she might try to find her sister, or one of the other Zith nearby, but if she left her slave alone he might get ideas about crawling back to his own colony (which wasn't all that far away). Faced with the prospect of standing there doing nothing but stare at each other, Scorn suddenly spat, "Do something interesting!" |