Since Octobre had been "saved" by a devilish conman (whose name she had since learned was Takka), she had witnessed him hard at work twice, both on the same night he had "rescued" her. His excuse for her presence there was that she was an oracle who occasionally assisted his seances, and was even so powerful as to stand in for him from time to time, but was currently at rest. His attendees had swallowed it whole with moony eyes, and had stolen several awestruck glances at Octobre during their respective seances.

The end of the day had brought Octobre many of the answers and details she had previously desired. She had learned much of what was to be expected of her, and above all had learned exactly what Takka's "seances" entailed. To Octobre's surprise, however, the two seances she had witnessed had been quite different from one another. This only proved to advance her opinion of Takka as a charlatan.

The next evening (for Octobre had slept deeply through the day) brought a flurry of activity from her "employer", and the clearing was a tidy mess of new supplies waiting to be put into place. The stallion seemed to take particular reassurance from periodically reminding Octobre of her part to play in the coming night, when visitors would surely arrive.

"Someone'll be joining us after sunset," he'd said. According to the male, he'd heard it from a reliable source. "Don't bother asking who," he'd later snipped, learning to block Octobre's questions before they came. This incensed the mare, but not enough for her to speak up against him.

"You just make sure you're ready to play your part," he kept reminding her. Octobre was no actress, but as long as her role didn't involve an attempt at a different personality, she was confident she could do reasonably well.

While Takka was placing something akin to trust in the mare to assist him in a seance, it wasn't enough to ask her to help him set up his place of business. Every detail was left to his own dealings. He painted his own "blood" circles, set up his storefront (an array of containers filled with anything from panaceas and poisons, to teeth and hair), adjusted his tree "ornaments", etc. Octobre was left to watch with mild curiosity. Whatever time she had leftover from that was spent in idle snacking or sleeping. Takka was secretly hoping she wouldn't turn out to be a complete sloth and that her current attitude was a result of her poor lifestyle choices before her running into him (nearly literally).

All in all, he thought her a frail, grody little thing, easy to bend, and even easier to break, if he so chose. He had no respect for anyone, but typically mares fell to the bottom of his list. Octobre was no exception. But he could use her, and that was enough. Besides, if she ended up overstaying her welcome, he could easily give her the hoof. The only reason she was there presently was because of a debt she felt honor-bound to pay off. (At least she had that going for her, he thought.) Debts were fickle things in the stallion's mind, however, and he could wave one off as easily as he could hound someone to the ends of the earth over recompense. If Octobre proved too annoying, he'd let her off her leash well before her due time.

"Don't lie down again," Takka barked. Octobre stopped mid-slump and slowly rose again. She hardly knew what to do with herself, and it seemed every time she felt she'd be better off staying out of the way, the stallion would have her do something else. Don't stand still, keep busy, at least act like you're busy, he'd say. His short temper was most readily blamed, but Octobre also understood that the sun had set and Takka was expecting his visitor--his "customer". His anxiousness would've been amusing had it not been at the mare's expense.

"Shall I pretend to be mad?" Octobre dared to jest. Her reply was a deadly glare, which she nearly returned, but did not posses the required courage.

After several "false alarms", as Takka called them, the stallion suddenly had the idea to have the mare quickly dip her mouth into a gourd bowl of red liquid (not blood). Her lengthy hesitation caught even her own self off guard, but, hardening her will to shake off the trauma of the prior evening, delicately coated her mouth with crimson as she had been asked. Dripping appropriately, she folded her wings and seemed to take on a kind of regal countenance. Gone was the unkempt hair and hollowed cheeks from the night before. She was well fed and watered, rested, and bright-eyed. Takka examined her for several moments in silence before unceremoniously ordering her to hide behind a tree.

Mere minutes passed before all manner of twig snapping and cursing could be heard in the not-too-distant woods. Octobre knew that she had not made such a dissimilar entrance herself, and so experienced something like second-hand embarrassment. Whoever was approaching was audibly female, and considerably unhappy about the assortment of insects and arbor she was in the process of working through, as well as the likely damage that was being done to her hair.

"FINALLY!" Octobre heard from her hiding spot, and after a brief pause the unfamiliar mare asked incredulously, "...Is this it?"

"Do you really think it's not?" Takka answered back with exaggerated enthusiasm to match. And yet it seemed to Octobre that the mare's inflection had pointed less to the specificity of the location and more to its appearance.

"Yeah, whatever, let's get on with it, then," the young mare descanted. A dark laugh rumbled and Octobre nosed the bark of her tree. The stranger was evidently not getting off to a very good start.

"If our mutual friend told you anything," Takka began, "then you'd know it's not that simp--"

"YEAH, I know, I have payment, whatever," the young mare interrupted. Octobre's ears moved at the sound of a clink, but couldn't begin to guess what it was from. "This enough?"

"Depends what you want, girl," Takka answered lowly.

"Oooh~, sexy," the mare declared through a chewed lip. "Careful, or you might end up making me change my mind," she warned playfully, though there was something sinister lining her tone.

"Talk," Takka ordered. There was a dramatic, drawn-out sigh, and then the young mare began to explain what she hoped to gain from the dark consult. She wished to locate the owner of the necklace she wore. He'd purportedly jilted her and she wanted revenge. She wouldn't say more, however, in order to test the true powers of the infamous Dark Priest.

"So be it," the con-man answered with finality. After a few moments, he called, "Oracle!"

Octobre stepped lightly from behind her great tree. Candle light played off the colored glass in the boughs overhead, bouncing back to illuminate the "blood" on her face. She looked to Takka first, and then to the young mare, finally able to put a face to the voice. The girl was darkly colored with fiery accents, and her eyes quite literally blazed. She was nearly the same stature as Octobre, but bulkier. Her mane was long and voluminous, though slightly tousled, presumably from her trek through the woods. She offered Octobre a critical once-over in silence.

"Take off the necklace," Takka commanded. The young mare impatiently did so, dropping her accessory on a clean stump in front of the stallion. Octobre stepped forward to examine the trinket. It was purely colored and glowing almost incandescently. Octobre decided it didn't suit the girl at all. Then again, it hadn't been hers to begin with.

"Don't get it dirty!" the girl shrieked at the dripping Oracle's encroachment. Octobre lifted her head, but held her ground. The young mare fidgeted with agitation.

"Hold out your leg," came another flat order. This produced a countenance in the young mare which seemed to say you've gotta be kidding me. But Takka did not look amused. "Now," he growled. With childish impetuousness, the mare finally lifted her left leg at the knee. With a roll of the stallion's head, Octobre took him to understand she was to bite the girl's leg for blood. At the prospect, her eyes grew thirsty.

The young mare gathered what was about to happen and quickly stumbled back aghast. The look in Octobre's eyes produced obvious discomfort, and she stammered several times before asking, "You mean she's gotta drink my blood?" When she received no response, she warily hissed, "Why?!"

"Relax," Takka soothed without sympathy, "you won't even feel it. She does this all the time." Octobre's heart fluttered with shame, though she appeared unwaveringly fixed on the necklace before her.

"Is this really gonna do something?" the young mare asked nervously. Takka sighed with frustration and began remarking on how little time he had for such displays, when the girl became desperately placative. She lifted her leg again and twisted her eyes shut with all her strength. "Get it over with! Just get it over with!" she exclaimed. Octobre moved close to the mare's leg, nostrils flaring with breath as she took in her scent. The young mare bit back a slew of curses. Octobre had sampled the blood of many a Soquili, but she had learned to appreciate the nuances between each individual. There was no way of telling exactly what mixed blood flowed through the young mare, but it was likely Octobre had never tested the exact type before. She was pleased by the thought. With nary a warning, she placed her lips above the young mare's knee and nicked the skin with her teeth. If the girl had cried out, Octobre didn't hear it, so consumed was she by the incoming taste of new blood.

Takka watched her draw back with closed lids. He didn't like the thought of being interested in what might be going on in her head during her bizarre practice, but it was admittedly unusual enough to make him contemplate. There was no chance for a quiet study, however, as his customer was throwing a tantrum. She screamed, cried, and nursed her wound, all the while spitting the vilest of curses at the so-called Oracle. She tossed a multitude of threats to Takka, as well, if his methods proved to be a farce, and demanded results lest she withdraw and get her big brother to kill them both.

"You know something," Takka began blankly, choking her with his gaze. Her body stilled. "You should really be more polite to your elders." With that suggestion, the young mare swallowed and folded her wings. She seemed remorseful, then angry, then flustered.

"You're not mad at me, are you?" she asked pitiably. Takka's stare through his mask was level. The mare inched closer. There was something wild glinting in her eyes--obsessive. "What's your real name, anyway?" she asked.

"Oracle," Takka called, still holding the young mare's gaze. Octobre looked to him. "What did you see?"

"He's in the mountains," she answered after a pause.

"What?" their customer hissed, confronting Octobre directly so there was minimal space between them. "How did he get all the way up there?!" she demanded to know.

Unflinchingly, Octobre answered, "I imagine he flew." This response was met with a stare of deepest examination and rage, the glow trailing off the young mare's eyes reflecting in Octobre's own. Still, the older mare let nothing escape through her invisible mask. Her stare was unfeeling, her stance upright. With a twitch of her wings, the younger one backed down and turned her attention to the Dark Priest. The stallion had already begun sorting through his payment--a satchel of small bones--giving ample hint that the session was at its end. The young mare snorted loudly.

"Enjoy your toys," the girl sang venomously at his back. "Oh, by the way," she cried innocently, "just remember how easy it was for me to find you! I can do it again," she glowered in ending. Takka appeared wholly unaffected. Seething, the girl spun around to leave. As she began to pass by Octobre, her mouth shot out and tore a gash through the Oracle's shoulder with sharpened teeth. Octobre cried out with surprise and pain as she doubled back. "Bite for a bite, b***h," the assailant spat, and upon seeing the Dark Priest rising, sprang off with great speed into the trees.

Composure wavering in and out of stability, Octobre observed her gushing wound, not at all enticed by the sight. Her own blood was abhorrent in her eyes. Above all things, Octobre wished to preserve her own life. Her blood signaled a wound. A wound signaled possible infection and even death. Her heart raced wildly.

"That little s**t," Takka growled, appearing suddenly by Octobre. "Go lie down over there," he ordered irritably, leaving her to rummage through his supplies. The mare did as she was told, grinding her teeth at the feel of warm liquid trailing down her arm with each step. When the stallion next approached, he carried with him an aged coconut, a sprig of herbs, and a mouthful of dried grass. She could tell that he meant to explain for her how to tend her wound herself, but quickly grew impatient and set to the task himself. Octobre stared expressionlessly at nothing in particular.

"How'd you know?" Takka asked neutrally. While there seemed to be no context to his question, Octobre knew full well what he was referring to.

"The necklace looked like it had been made for her opposite. An Angeni," she said. When the stallion was unresponsive, she turned to him and added, quite unnecessarily, "I guessed."

"I know," he snipped. He continued his task with zero finesse. Octobre sighed voicelessly and turned to look at the place her attacker had disappeared into.

Was this to become the routine? How abysmal. How drab. But it was only temporary. Yes, temporary. All things were. And while her "employer" was tending her injury for purely selfish reasons, she still preferred it to having to dress it herself. It was a positive among many negatives. Even so, as her shoulder flexed with pain, one thought rose above all others.

One down, five to go.