[PRP] A Meeting Born In Blood [Fear The Old Blood/Guilty]

[Ruriska]

[imgleft]https://matope-swamp.com/images/maxx/fe ... uncert.png[/imgleft] As the sun sunk towards the horizon, the swamp glowed with red and orange, light reflecting off the water and the shadows depending where the dying rays refused to reach. Here the swamp reeked of blood, the twisting mangroves thick and old, nourished by the many bodies they were provided.

This was a place of death. A good place to die; cradled by the roots, sinking into the soft mud, watched over by the pitiless gaze of nesting cranes. The MotherFather’s own, gazing down from their perches, or wading by to catch the bugs summoned for a fresh feed.

Not all were willing. Those who weren’t were coaxed into it by hoof and antler. Forcefully convinced to feed the swamp that little bit more. Animals or kin, all were welcomed.

Fear The Old Blood slipped through the shadows, red eyes wide and hungry.

@Jun

[Jun]

[imgleft]https://matope.pixel-blueberry.com/imag ... uncert.png[/imgleft]Guilty liked the bloody Swamp. When it all smelt like blood, she needn't fear if she was the only one who did. Which she didn't, of course.

She didn't do it.

She never did it.

She wasn't -

Guilty sank her limbs into the murky waters. She loved the bloody Swamp.

@Ruriska

[Ruriska]

A crane called and another answered, feathers ruffled, wings stretched. A multitude of eyes watched, knowing that when all was done, there would be plenty of meat for all.

Fear The Old Blood followed the trails that wound through the blood-touched swamp, knowing where to place her hooves so that she never sank but remained on firm footing instead.

She walked with slow deliberate steps until she was looming, antlers tall and twisted, out of the shadows, looking down upon the pale doe.

Another sacrifice ready for slaughter.

@Jun

[Jun]

Front limbs submerged, Guilty stared up at the looming figure. She had not noticed her coming, for everything smelt like blood. Her antlers were very impressive, and she looked like night. When she had first turned her head to look, she had for a moment thought it might be some version of the anti-Motherfather, come to punish her for her sins.

But she supposed it was just an Acha doe.

Perhaps a normal doe.

"I'm so sorry," she said, like a normal doe, "am I in your spot? I can move."

@Ruriska

[Ruriska]

There was no good place to step here, so Blood descended deeper into the swampy water, wading through the murky slosh that pulled at her hooves to reach the other doe. Occasionally she felt herself step on something hard. A branch or a bone, though she knew which was more likely.

Soon more would join them. Another layer.

This was just a normal doe, Blood presumed. Even as her nostrils flared, catching the faint scent of blood, one that she didn’t recognize. A normal doe who wouldn’t think to fight or struggle.

Sohe said nothing to this normal doe (why speak to that which was already dead?) and instead, upon her arrival at the does side, dipped her head, her nose lapping at the water, so her twisted antlers with their sharp and blooded points, could prepare to gore the other.

If she angled it right, they would go through the neck, sever something integral deep within and then the sacrifice would simply bleed out in moments.

@Jun

[Jun]

"I didn't know it was occupied," she continued, smoothly relocating to where the antlers could not murderise hurt her too much, "I'll just take this bit over here."

Perhaps she was a normal doe. After all, it wasn't as if Guilty knew what a normal doe was like.

Then again, perhaps she wasn't.

"See?" she said, sliding a little further out of reach, "I'll be small. This marsh is big enough for the two of us."

Then she laughed, because she didn't know where that came from, but it was, and it was hard to stop laughing.

@Ruriska

[Ruriska]

The doe inched away, step by step, always just out of reach, and Fear The Old Blood was forced to stop in her murderising tracks. She lifted her head to actually look at the doe, the laughing doe, and attempt to understand what was happening.

Normally anyone who wandered into her blood-soaked swamp who saw her, a terrifying doe with twisted bloody antlers, approaching with obviously deadly intent did one of two things: freeze or run.

Sometimes they even attacked, which was especially delightful for her.

What they didn’t do, never ever, was laugh.

And just... casually sidle out of the way.

Fear The Old Blood rarely spoke (she didn’t see the point) but she was so confused that she opened her mouth and uttered a garbled, rusty-throated, “gah?” and stared at the offending doe with  very wide eyes.

@Jun

[Jun]

The doe's questioning noise sobered her. It chastised her.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't mean to laugh."

That wasn't a thing that normal does did.

She should've tried to make friends.

"Do you come here often?" she said, "what's your name?"

Still, she oughta stay out of reach. Those antlers looked sharp. Maybe she didn't know what she was doing with them, they looked like she might've gored a couple of things already.

@Ruriska

[Ruriska]

She didn’t mean to laugh, the doe said.

Fear didn’t quite believe her.

Or maybe she did. It was hard to tell.

Now that she was forced to take a moment to actually look at what was meant to be her victim, she could tell that there was something off. Something that looked normal but wasn’t quite.

Do you come here often?

Fear The Old Blood looked up at the cranes, who watched restlessly, head tilting this way and that, waiting for their meal.

Yes, she came here often.

She was frowning when her gaze swung back to the doe.

In an attempt to fix whatever this was, she cleared her throat and spoke properly for the first time in a very long time.

It was a raspy and matter-of-fact, “I am here to kill you.”

There. That should get things back on track.

@Jun

[Jun]

"That’s quite a name," she said.

But who was she to judge.

"I’m -" and she nearly paused, because it always felt so self-defeating, to say it out loud. But it couldn't be worse than 'I'm Here To Kill You.'

Quite a mouthful, that.

"Guilty," she continued, and then she assured, "but I’m not. I didn’t do it."

@Ruriska (im sorry QAQ)

[Ruriska]

Fear The Old Blood made a sound.

It was a sigh, a long deep one that came right from her gut.

And then, in the killing field that had claimed many an unwilling life, in waters that had run scarlet, watched over by hungry beasts waiting to feast, she gave up the fight.

She allowed herself to sink deeper into the swamp water, finding comfort in the muddy soil littered with old bones.

“What didn’t you do?” She croaked.

Curious now, about this normal doe.

(K.O! )

[Jun]

"I dunno, I didn't do it," she snapped.

And then she felt bad. She was a normal doe after all. She was just doing normal doe things. Like small talk.

Perhaps, even...

...girl talk.

Guilty had never attempted girl talk before.

"But I heard it had something to do with...a lot of blood," she attempted girl talk, "and they were all...very pretty."

"But they were so mean," she sighed, sinking back into the water too, "all the pretty ones are so mean."

She looked over at the normal doe thoughtfully.

"Well," she said, "maybe not. You're very pretty. But you seem nice."

@Ruriska (is there...hope for them...after all...)

[Ruriska]

Fear The Old Blood’s muscles instinctively flinched at Guilty’s snappy tone, anticipating the potential for violence.

But the moment passed without incident, and so she sank a little deeper into the murky waters.

She wasn’t really sure what the other was saying, she’d never had a proper conversation before, let alone girl talk. But what she did understand was that there had been blood involved somehow and she approved of that.

Eyes still wide and very wild, Fear The Old Blood blew out some bubbles and watched them pop on the water’s surface.

When they were all gone, she lifted her head a bit and said, “you’re wrong. I am not nice.”

@Jun

[Jun]

"Ahah, you are nice!" she said, sitting up in the water triumphantly, "none of them would ever have said they were not nice - but you did. No one who's not nice would ever say they weren't."

Sinking back, she concluded, "at any rate, you're very pretty."

@Ruriska

[Ruriska]

She had never been this confused before.

Fear The Old Blood had popped out of her sac with dreams full of blood and death and she had lived up to her name without breaking stride. She’d never had to worry about making friends or being nice or whether she was pretty or not.

Was she pretty?

Was this doe pretty?

Fear liked her scent. It was pleasant. And she liked how the doe looked a bit like a corpse.
With blood trails and bones.

And even if most kin screamed and begged for mercy, called her crazy and wailed quite dramatically as they were being killed, she was still granting them a good death. That was nice.

“You are also... pretty,” she said, the unfamiliar words clumsy. But it seemed like the right thing to say. 

@Jun