In the midst of darkness, there was a rumble. A slight constricting sensation. His eyes snapped open, irate at the idea that something had bypassed his precautions, that he was disturbed despite his plans. It was then he realised it was his stomach.
That's right. They hadn't had dinner because Estra was being an idiot and he was too angry to remember it. He grappled for the apple he'd stolen earlier in the dark, and cast a disdainful look to Estra's corner, fully expecting to see silvery strands leading up to one weepy, miserable dove -
- only to find the corner most empty, and he was alone.
He jolted up, plucking the earplugs out violently. "
ESTRA!" He called; the clock struck the next hour and the noises of festival assaulted his aural space.
No...she wouldn't dare - he dashed to the window, and winced as the bright fires seared his vision. As it cleared he saw her dainty figure, sticking out like a sore thumb, hurrying to the crowd...
What an idiot. He turned away, contemptuously, blinking the lights out. Fine - she could go join in the festival. Be pushed around, stolen from, turned into fried pigeon. If she wanted so dearly to suffer that sort of fate, it was all the better for Vlad. He really couldn't bring himself to care.
Whether she would even get there was questionable. She'd probably trip on her dress. Someone would probably step on her hair. Sweeping the sooty pavement, with pieces of abandoned candy sticking to it. Falling flat on her face. The festival would be over by the time she squeezed through the crowd to the square, a wreck of a bird. Or someone would lure her away with a sweet treat, and put her to labour to pay for it. Or worse.
Or worse.
She'd never gone out alone
at night before.
Of course he'd be happier without her.
She'd never gone out alone
at night before. And she...
"
Damn it." He growled, pitching the apple at a wall. His quick, heavy and meaningful steps down echoed through the tower.
END
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