They stared at each other from across the harsh ground of the borderlands; her double horns standing proud, backed by a setting sun. His own hair aflame with the glow. His pack moved restlessly around him, waiting for someone to move, for a decision to be made. A threat hung in the air, waiting, heavy, for a challenge to be made.
But the doe clearly thought better of a fight and turned away. The Killing Moon watched her leave, until her dark figure was gone.
The attack came at night instead, as they were settling down with rocks and sand as their bed. Suddenly, without warning. Not even a whiff of her despite all the noses available. Just a yelp from Fate, as the doe bit into his haunches, the closest target. She let go almost immediately, stepping back to escape the snapping jaws of the second wolf, Fortune.
How foolish, The Killing Moon thought, rising to stand. His form switching rapidly between the snarling Eaglehound and his own Kimeti body, teeth bared. She couldn’t expect to fight them all.
“A coward hiding behind his pets,” the doe rasped, blood on her chin.
Her gaze flicked rapidly between each creature; Eaglehounds, wolves, spectral hounds. Calculating. Then only for him.
“This is my territory.”
“We’re just passing through,” The Killing Moon replied, amiably, his charming grin doing nothing to hide the violence in his eyes. And though it all, the intimate knowledge of this doe, of the life inside her, of his purpose.
And in her smug smile, the knowledge of her immunity.
“Then keep on passing.”
The Killing Moon straightened, untensed the tight muscles in his neck. “As you wish.” He stepped forward, one, two, three steps. Passed her by, flank to flank. The pack followed at his heels, placid, if still wary but would not attack without his word.
The doe turned her head to watch him, so close her breath ruffled his hair.
A half moon standing watch above.
Two sets of eyes glowing in the darkness.
The Killing Moon smiled.
“May your children be gentle in spirit and kind of heart,” he whispered to her, soft and sweet.
The doe looked to attack him then, a ripple running through her from head to tail. She controlled the urge quickly.
“That is not a miracle even Her chosen can perform,” she said. “I am Entity. Come intrude again sometime and see just how gentle they are. There is certainly kindness in a quick death.”
The Killing Moon could only laugh in partial admiration.
Then he was an Eaglehound, leaving her to empty land of sand, rocks and the Ache.