by Scorn on May 1st, 2016, 4:26 am
Scorn awoke before sunset, nestled with her sister in the hollow of a tree they had found growing out of the side of a cliff. Scorn carefully extricated herself from the tiny cuddle-pile and dropped silently down into the cooling air without waking Scourge. Scorn would love her sister even if they weren't each the only colony the other had, but they didn't always understand each other, and sometimes Scorn needed some time apart. She told herself that it would be all right, she wouldn't go far, and Scourge would be able to follow her scent when she woke up.
She drifted aimlessly for only a few chimes before she noticed something interesting. It was the scent of another Zith. This would not normally be unusual--Zith dotted the landscape no matter where she went, and usually she tried to stay out of their way if they weren't competing for prey. On the other claw, she was pretty sure she and Scourge had made it back to some of the territories her own clan used to call home (it was a bit tricky to tell since her clan moved around a lot, but there was a familiar smell to these mountains). Ever since she had succeeded in her quest to find her sister, who had been ripped away by the mighty storms, her single-minded goal had been one of returning to their old colony, so that they could get on with being proper Zith again.
That was what was weird about this Zith scent; it wasn't anyone from her colony, but it wasn't a stranger either. But when she tried to remember the scent, her mind conjured images of stick-men and a fountain of blood. She must have met him in the horrible place she rescued Scourge from. That made her uneasy, but she did not remember this particular scent belonging to an enemy. Perhaps it would be worthwhile to investigate. Still, caution was warranted. She made sure to stay downwind as she approached.
Scorn landed behind a tree, creeping closer on foot, using the shadows of the trees as cover. She had almost gotten close enough to get a good look of the familiar Zith, when she stepped on a dry twig. She froze at the snapping which sounded like a thunderclap in her ears. But it was too late, he definitely heard her.
She briefly considered fleeing, but just as soon dismissed the thought. Such an action would only leave her vulnerable to potential attack, and such a display of weakness would practically demand the other Zith kill her. Instead, she crouched down on all fours, arching her back and flaring her wings out, before slowly stepping into the light, trying not to move too suddenly. She waited for his reaction, ready to respond instantly to the slightest aggressive provocation.
"Dialogue in italics is in Zithanese."
"Dialogue in normal font is in Common."