The metallic chirp of a cardinal caused Takka's ear to twitch, and as he roused from his sleep he wasn't sure what had woken him, the bird or his twitch. He took a groggy breath and his dry tongue asked for water. His body woke faster than his mind.

What...was...when had he fallen asleep...?

Slowly, but mounting, pain began to increase in the stallion's head until it reached a teeth-clenching crescendo. Takka groaned softly, as if being any louder would serve to worsen the throbbing. His nostrils flared and he smelled blood--his own blood. From his head? And then he remembered. And then he knew.

Octobre.

Eyes ripping open, the stallion launched to his feet. A low scan of his surroundings proved he was alone. His breaths came quickly--panicked. NO! He wasn't panicked. Over her?! Never! But what...

The contrast of white against dark forest floor caught his eye, and he found his skull mask lying unhappily on its face. Following a trail, he found several bone beads scattered in the dirt--one of his bracelets had broken. Then he saw something quite out of place--a thick piece of twine, frayed from breakage and hanging from a large bough. He followed the gap in the line to the ground beneath it and found the rest of the string. He recognized what he saw, and then understood fully what had taken place.

A trap.

Face twisting with rage, Takka let out a guttural cry and did a perimeter scan of his disheveled workplace. Octobre was no where to be seen. He was truly and utterly alone. There was no telling how long he'd been asleep or how long she'd been gone. He focused his breathing into even, steady streams of anger in order to collect his thoughts. He still didn't understand. He began tracing back.

Octobre had fiddled with his things--always fiddling. She'd always...even then? From the start. Even from the start? To distract him? When had she set the trap? At some point she had set it, used everything to her advantage--timing, his lowered guard, his refusal to deem her a threat...but for what, a couple of bottles of blood?! Disgusting mare. Disturbed. Batshit. How dare she steal from him?

HOW DARE SHE?!

In one powerful swoop, Takka was upon his hollowed log. Clumsy and frenzied, he rummaged through the small bottles and unexpectedly found everything to be there. She hadn't taken the blood. She hadn't taken anything. Eyes roaming wildly, the male backed up and stared at the empty trap. He stared and wondered and felt the weight of the trees closing in on him as he stood there, confused and foolish. He sneered at their pressing forms and spread his wings wide as if to keep them away. His aching head seared and he dropped it to his chest with a wince of heavy brows.

The smell of his own blood entered his nose again. It was coming from his neck. Eyes opened and pupils thinned to slits.

Posture straightening and wings lowering, Takka walked calmly as if in a trance past the large trees, over fallen logs, and then to a small, clear pool of water, darkened by the heavy shade of the deep woods. Hesitating almost unnoticeably, he moved forward to gaze upon his shaded reflection. His suspicions were realized.

A coagulated bite mark rested neatly in the left side of his neck.

Takka stared, and for the first time in his life his mind went completely blank. There he stood in such a state for several minutes.

The passage of time was lost to Takka's recollection, but when he stung back into reality, he was aware that his breaths came quick and heavy, and his eyes burned with some powerful emotion he was very much unused to feeling.

Somehow, by some miracle, by fate, by curse, Octobre had played Takka for a fool. She had duped him. Double-crossed. Betrayed. Used.

Hunted.

The last thought spurred Takka back around and into his clearing. He entered it wearily, overcome, and staggered to lean his weight against the largest tree--the tree Octobre had most often reclined under. He saw her visage there now, folded and regal, expression offering nothing--nothing.

She had hunted him.

He had been her prey.

How long...?

She had hunted him.

A low laugh tested its way out of Takka's mouth, and then leapt out fully, crazed and raucous. He threw his head and laughed harder, louder, and did not cease even when his headache brought stars to his eyes, and his lungs begged for rest. But his lungs did get their rest, for all at once Takka crumpled to a heap at the tree's thick roots. The grin remained stuck to his face.

"Octobre..." Takka murmured sweetly, face lit with hate. He heaved a tired breath and felt some strange serenity wash over him as he closed his eyes.

"I'm going to kill you."