|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Thu Jan 12, 2012 10:25 pm
The wind easily carried the scent of taint and old blood to his keen nostrils. Sloane stopped where he stood, breathing deep the intoxicating scent of death so nearby. It was comforting, such a familiar scent. Despite the difference in appearance and three distinct classes between the lot of them, there was always this that connected them.
They all were death, it was as simple as that.
Quietly, he followed Aysel to over the brush to a small and messy clearing. The Infitialis wasted little time once his eyes glanced over the limp body. Its single, glowing red eye pierced through his defenses and captivated him wholly. Sloane knelt, hands on his knees as he leaned forward and engulfed himself in the rabbit's scent. Its pale fur was caked with blood and dirt, and pooling all over its small, weak form was the black taint -- the essence of a Plague.
"Beautiful," he whispered, breathless.
For a few silent moments he scrutinized the animal corpse, looking over every minute and gory detail. Without thinking, a hand reached towards the rabbit but halfway through the motion Sloane paused, fingers fidgeting wildly as he thought about the consequences. After a moment's thought, he turned to Aysel with his hand still out and looked concerned. "Have you touched it?" Worry coated his words until they were practically dripping with distress, "How did you get the taint into the bottle?"
From his understanding, a Grimm was someone who owned a Plague. A Plague was "owned" at the moment of growth. While he could be wrong, there were many instances he had seen or heard of involving a tainted object to be handed off between many people but it wasn't until it grew that a Grimm was claimed rightfully. As such, a Grimm would not gain the fabled immunity (if, in fact, they gained it at all) from the disease until such a time as they became a rightful and proper Grimm through growth. That meant, if Aysel was not careful with this rabbit, her life could be in danger just as any other human's... and if she were to die, either this rabbit would never grow or someone else would gain Grimmship.
"You must be very careful, Miss. Please, you must promise me never to touch this rabbit. You must keep a close eye over it, yes, and move it if you must, but never touch it with your flesh. Do not breathe its scent for longer than necessary." For a moment it seemed Sloane was unsure of what emotion to convey; his expression was first serious, then sympathetic, worried, and then it settled somewhere in between. His voice was lowered to a calm but dire whisper, and the hand he held out toward the rabbit pointed to the corpse instead of hovering uselessly. "But above all, if you wish to stay true and be this Plague's Grimm... you must make sure that no one else ever acquires this corpse. There is still a chance someone could take it from you and the Plague will be theirs. When it grows, it is yours and yours alone."
Once this message was conveyed, he seemed to calm and returned his gaze to the rabbit. There were so many things he didn't understand about creature-based Plagues. Did the gender of the animal have any bearing on that of the Plague? In Lady Hayat's case, it seemed to; both putesco and excito were female, but that was also a case of a living putesco. This animal was quite dead, in point of fact an inanimate object when compared to the gryfalcon. What would this poor corpse turn out to be when the life of death was breathed into it and it opened its eyes to the world once more.
"I am very glad, Miss Aysel, that I was able to come here today and meet you. I fear for what may happen in your journey to becoming a Grimm but I hope that the mountains of Shyregoed protect you and your Plague as best they can." Now it was only a matter of making sure she found a safe home in the arms of anyone that was not the House.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jan 26, 2012 11:56 pm
Aysel couldn't help the slightly peculiar expression that crept over her face as she watched Sloane inspect her rabbit. She waffled between emotions, unable to tell which to feel. On one hand, his expression was one awe and adoration, and it filled her with pride; however, the way he hovered over her Plague and sniffed and smelled reminded her rather of a wolf. He had been so helpful; she trusted him, but she couldn't shake off the slight uneasiness borne of his wolfish attitude. He almost seemed to covet it, and she suppressed the urge to move a bit closer.
Seeing him reach, she tensed slightly, but immediately relaxed again at his question and concern. Her answer came easily, simply. "I nudged it in with a stick. I know better than to touch dead things I find in the forest." Her words held no offense; they stated pure fact, untarnished by emotion. She heeded his advice with rapt attention and solemnly nodded. Applying her new-found knowledge, she tilted her head slightly and asked, "I'm guessing I can't touch it because it's a living disease, and even if I'm its Grimm, it could still hurt me?" Looking at her rabbit, she spoke with all the gravity of an oath. "Don't worry, Sloane... I'll protect it." Suddenly, she smiled, focusing back on him. "I hope you get the chance to see it when it does."
As he spoke his final words, she felt the end of their meeting drawing near and stood accordingly. "Me too. You taught me so much... There's o more to learn, I'm sure, but you helped to give me a good start." Again, she smiled at him. "Thank you. Hopefully, my neck of the woods will stay quiet, and we won't have anything to worry about..." As her voice trailed off, she looked over at her rabbit, and it became difficult to perceive whether she was referring to her and her Plague or her and Sloane by 'we'.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
