Wikus did not feel very secure about his own feelings. Chaotic as they were throughout an entire life, unable to ever keep them on a leash and usually being driven by them, they were now pulling him in a hundred different directions. In a way, he enjoyed the female’s being in some sort of mystical, unexplainable way, dragged into a relationship he didn’t quite comprehend, yet certain that it was not a relationship between thief and victim. However, that very same connection made him fearful, scared of facing and experiencing something new, as he was a man of tradition and novelty was never quite fitting into his lifestyle. Whatever it may have been, he buried it deep down and instead focused on reality, as fantasy had no place this very moment. His frown, missing until now, slowly made its presence known as that very same facial expression was his mistress throughout his daily life, rare being the occasions in which he was spotted without it. Just like he believed, the female was way inferior to his height, which didn’t surprised him at all. It was hard to find a woman that could match his perhaps undiagnosed gigantism.
Looking down at the bone, his eyes couldn’t help themselves as they hovered down at her breasts, bare and exposed. Wikus was an animal in his own way, immediately running his eyes down her naked frame. His eyes met the sight of the ugly bruise he had inflicted her with the help of a porcelain plate, once again making him feel somewhat guilty. And once again, he recalled how the female had been a bird before she was a woman, which he couldn’t help but feel suspicious about. What was this woman? She could’ve been using some magic to manipulate him, maybe planning to turn him into a toad or, the Gods forbid, a crab. Despite his gut telling him otherwise, he didn’t quite want to risk it. Finally, her words came forth, and he looked down at the bone with a bit of care, as if she had changed in some way to incite such reaction within her. ‘Called’ she said, Wikus’ eyebrows raising as he glanced once more into those dark eyes of hers. He was doing malediction, after all… He may have called her by carving the shape of a bird into a bone. If this was true, that meant he could summon even more women without much effort.
Leaving that tempting thought for a later trial, his frown increased once again as she shared her name. ‘Fiachra’. No way he’d remember that, considering his talent in forgetting names. Thus, he didn’t even try to repeat it back, mostly to avoid butchering it. “Wikus.” He said, his own made up name. Names were stupid in themselves, as they were bound to be forgotten when one perished. Why bother then, if every last one would end up forgotten? The earlier it was assumed, the better the transition would be. At least, that is what Wikus’ damaged psyche believed. He had named himself ‘because’, which pronounced with his own accent made up his name. It was like a statement as to why he did what he did, a clear sign drawn on his chest to state that he was the cause itself. Moving on from the subject, he was caught in the rather tense silence between two, tainted by an emotion he could not understand. It wasn’t lust, or at least not exclusively. It seemed like a positive emotion, or something that usually caused joy to a man, yet the emotion was tainted by others, made into a yarn that didn’t quite loosened up.
The female seemed to be pretty caught in his presence, which was nothing new considering his gifted presence. Wikus saw it, and kept seeing it, clearly yelled by her body language. Without permission, he raised an arm and pointed towards her bruise, his eyes once again landing on her breasts yet forcing himself to not stare as blatantly as he did at first. “Does hurt? Sorry I irk. Medicine?” If he was a bit less worried, he would’ve certainly reached out and press on it to see the extent of the damage. As he was no doctor, if she went ‘ouch’ he’d know she was truly hurt. This once he did not do anything similar, half worried and half afraid of her. It was a shame he did not have his shirt with him today so that he could help her dress up, mostly to remain within good graces with the local populace.
“We go medicine, woman.” He said a moment later, taking the choice for her. Letting go of her hand, if she’d let him, in order to recover his tool before heading into town.
Looking down at the bone, his eyes couldn’t help themselves as they hovered down at her breasts, bare and exposed. Wikus was an animal in his own way, immediately running his eyes down her naked frame. His eyes met the sight of the ugly bruise he had inflicted her with the help of a porcelain plate, once again making him feel somewhat guilty. And once again, he recalled how the female had been a bird before she was a woman, which he couldn’t help but feel suspicious about. What was this woman? She could’ve been using some magic to manipulate him, maybe planning to turn him into a toad or, the Gods forbid, a crab. Despite his gut telling him otherwise, he didn’t quite want to risk it. Finally, her words came forth, and he looked down at the bone with a bit of care, as if she had changed in some way to incite such reaction within her. ‘Called’ she said, Wikus’ eyebrows raising as he glanced once more into those dark eyes of hers. He was doing malediction, after all… He may have called her by carving the shape of a bird into a bone. If this was true, that meant he could summon even more women without much effort.
Leaving that tempting thought for a later trial, his frown increased once again as she shared her name. ‘Fiachra’. No way he’d remember that, considering his talent in forgetting names. Thus, he didn’t even try to repeat it back, mostly to avoid butchering it. “Wikus.” He said, his own made up name. Names were stupid in themselves, as they were bound to be forgotten when one perished. Why bother then, if every last one would end up forgotten? The earlier it was assumed, the better the transition would be. At least, that is what Wikus’ damaged psyche believed. He had named himself ‘because’, which pronounced with his own accent made up his name. It was like a statement as to why he did what he did, a clear sign drawn on his chest to state that he was the cause itself. Moving on from the subject, he was caught in the rather tense silence between two, tainted by an emotion he could not understand. It wasn’t lust, or at least not exclusively. It seemed like a positive emotion, or something that usually caused joy to a man, yet the emotion was tainted by others, made into a yarn that didn’t quite loosened up.
The female seemed to be pretty caught in his presence, which was nothing new considering his gifted presence. Wikus saw it, and kept seeing it, clearly yelled by her body language. Without permission, he raised an arm and pointed towards her bruise, his eyes once again landing on her breasts yet forcing himself to not stare as blatantly as he did at first. “Does hurt? Sorry I irk. Medicine?” If he was a bit less worried, he would’ve certainly reached out and press on it to see the extent of the damage. As he was no doctor, if she went ‘ouch’ he’d know she was truly hurt. This once he did not do anything similar, half worried and half afraid of her. It was a shame he did not have his shirt with him today so that he could help her dress up, mostly to remain within good graces with the local populace.
“We go medicine, woman.” He said a moment later, taking the choice for her. Letting go of her hand, if she’d let him, in order to recover his tool before heading into town.
