04-05-2020, 06:19 PM
Her temper still roiled around in her like a summer storm, and it was not soothed by the shifting scents in the room. Maybe translation ruined the sentiment she shared, or maybe the wolfishness of her was too stark to be comforting. Jacinda read little of her mood in turn. The stillness of her, when usually restlessness nipped her heels like spring pups eager for first hunt. That was what it was too, and perhaps a regrettable concoction. She watched Jacinda depart. It was not until the slap of running water sounded from the bathroom that she released the growl crouched in her throat.
Tenzin had known the world in which she stepped into when she crossed the ocean, or thought she had. Certainly she had prepared herself for her Athari cousins’ blunt ways, quite sure she could find a way to exist among them, but even so she had been surprised by the impunity of their actions here. The cruelty of Jacinda’s past only met justice because she dealt it herself, not because the Athari had any sense of caring for one’s own. They searched for the monsters among them, all right, but the wrong ones. This time her teeth did bare as she stalked from the sofa. Her fingers stretched and clenched. She had seen Nox Durante’s injury with her own two eyes. A hunter would not waste such effort on a channeler in their pursuit; she could guess at the rest, enough to assume that the man still plagued the underworld despite his exile. Proof of more value to the tattoo than the man who bore meaningless titles and pulled a gun outside a hospital.
It was madness!
Run with us, Star Dancer. Run and hunt!
The images flooded a sweet temptation even at this distance. A simpler existence, untainted by human corruption and stink. She almost whined the frustration, but swallowed it down in a brutal wrench of one of the cupboards in search of a dustpan and brush instead. Awareness of her own limitations focused her on the very human task. Her hackles were bristling nonetheless. She squatted by the spill of coffee, murmuring low to herself in her own language as she swept it up in wide, angry strokes. She could not kill a man who was dead. She could not oppose an organisation that would turn its teeth on her in turn, nor risk Jacinda by association. But she needed something to do.
Tenzin had known the world in which she stepped into when she crossed the ocean, or thought she had. Certainly she had prepared herself for her Athari cousins’ blunt ways, quite sure she could find a way to exist among them, but even so she had been surprised by the impunity of their actions here. The cruelty of Jacinda’s past only met justice because she dealt it herself, not because the Athari had any sense of caring for one’s own. They searched for the monsters among them, all right, but the wrong ones. This time her teeth did bare as she stalked from the sofa. Her fingers stretched and clenched. She had seen Nox Durante’s injury with her own two eyes. A hunter would not waste such effort on a channeler in their pursuit; she could guess at the rest, enough to assume that the man still plagued the underworld despite his exile. Proof of more value to the tattoo than the man who bore meaningless titles and pulled a gun outside a hospital.
It was madness!
Run with us, Star Dancer. Run and hunt!
The images flooded a sweet temptation even at this distance. A simpler existence, untainted by human corruption and stink. She almost whined the frustration, but swallowed it down in a brutal wrench of one of the cupboards in search of a dustpan and brush instead. Awareness of her own limitations focused her on the very human task. Her hackles were bristling nonetheless. She squatted by the spill of coffee, murmuring low to herself in her own language as she swept it up in wide, angry strokes. She could not kill a man who was dead. She could not oppose an organisation that would turn its teeth on her in turn, nor risk Jacinda by association. But she needed something to do.