I don't own anything except Corbin. I hope y'all enjoy yourselves. Maybe some strong language.

She still refuses to eat. The female still rejects each of his offers despite her declining health. It honestly pushes his patience and displeases him for, instead of feeding, she would rather wallow away in her little space. He cannot do more than speculate what irks her, given he can't sense her thoughts and emotions because of the strong mental barrier she put up the moment she arrived here. She's stubborn, as he would expect from someone like him, but this wounded pride of hers is nothing but foolish; however, the Creeper can be as well.

After finishing up with stitching another body to the walls, this one an older man in his 50's, the Creeper places the best organs he could gather in a large bowl, still bloody and warm, before heading to Corbin's alcove. She's in the same position as when he first came back, curled up with her face buried into her knees; while this is nothing new, what's concerning, on the other hand, is the fact that her right hand is missing! In its place is nothing but a dusty stump with more dust spilling onto and around her feet.

'Must be starving more than I thought.'

The Creeper thinks to himself in slight frustration, only to quickly bury the feeling. Obviously, since the female refuses to eat, perhaps he could motivate her to do so. He licks his chapped lips before leaning forward. The Creeper sets the bowl by Corbin, who only spares him a glance, but before she could push it away again, although he prefers not to do so often, he speaks.

"You wisssshh... to fight me?"

His extremely gravely and slightly southern voice catches the attention of the female in front of him; at least, enough to fully look up at him. Corbin holds up her chin at him with a hardened gaze as she gives a stiff nod. He may not prefer to talk often, but this is one of those situations that call for it. The Creeper notices Corbin's unique tail give a warning flick, that she's more than ready to strike. When the Creeper leans in toward her private space with both arms on either side of her, deeply inhaling her scent. Corbin's tail starts swishing back and forth as she backs away, giving a low growl as the hood of her crest starts twitching. Still, the larger male continues to invade her personal space, backing her against the wall. Corbin opens her wings a little as she lets out an inhuman hiss, as she feels her space shrink exponentially, leaving her no room to breathe properly. The Creeper then flinches, grabbing at his head as he hears her speak into his mind, bashing through all his natural barriers to mental tear into his psyche as she roars out her fury.

'Don't you fucking dare touch me!'

Corbin uses her good hand to strike at the intruding male. Unfortunately for her, he recovers fast enough to dodge this with her claws merely leaving behind thin black lines on his cheek. Still, even that small action left her breathing heavily from the exertion. The Creeper looks at her fatigued form with an unreadable expression as he inspects her.

"Weak..."

Corbin lets out a low hiss in a warning for the larger male to watch his tongue. He gives no reaction to the expression or indication that speaking appears to prolong the dull ache in his head.

"Too much... To fight..."

The Creeper pushes the bowl against Corbin, who eyes its contents in barely contained hunger. He holds back a grin at the prospect of almost accomplishing his goal, seeing the female's tail twitching in anticipation.

"Eat..."

However, Corbin doesn't immediately follow this clear order, instead, staring at the bowl for a long while. As much as she hates to admit it, there is some wisdom to this brute's words. Although contrary to what the Creeper thinks, it's not just some stubborn pride that kept her jaws locked and her body withers away. No, it's the shame of having to forfeit her freedom to a loveless partnership and the dispiriting realization that she's most likely not going to see her friends again, not if she wishes to keep them from a nightmare-inducing death. Along with the fact, unknown to the Creeper, she's been scouting the area around them through the eyes of her ravens, both to know the territory and provide her mind some escape even if her body isn't. Still, if she were to stand a chance against the Creeper in case he tried any fowl business, she'll need to be at full strength to do so.

The Creeper, on the other hand, notes how enraged she looks at the bowl in front of her. For a moment, he thinks that Corbin would just hurl the bowl and its contents at his face. Until, he's proven wrong when she picks up a liver and shoves it into her mouth, swallowing it whole. Corbin then proceeds to viciously wolf down the rest of the pieces of meat, clearly channeling her frustration into her feeding. Right before his eyes, the female in front of the Creeper begins to heal; her tail's tears start filling, leaving no scarring whatsoever similarity to her other injuries during their first encounter.

The Creeper doesn't hesitate to bring in one of his latest victims, the body still nice and fresh, in front of Corbin. Quicker than a normal human could react, she pounces onto the corpse, not bothering with any tools, much to the Creeper's delight, she just uses her talons and claws to rip into her meal. He watches in fascination as her right-hand starts reforming, starting with the bones followed by veins, arteries, muscle, and finally flesh; all of this under a second, leaving only a gelatin layer of transparent skin which Corbin merely rips off like a glove before going back to her feasting.

Corbin pays no mind to the fact that her entire front and parts of her hair becomes stained with blood, instead, she briefly imagines that the body is actually the Creeper whom she is ripping to shreds. Corbin pictures how her claws would tear through his disgusting hide, before peeling it off to reveal what he really is underneath as his roars echo into her ears like a symphony. A symphony that sings with the bloodlust that she always has to keep at bay. Always having to push it down, ignore it, keep her claws and teeth back; well, in this instance, she doesn't have to, able to temporarily give in before she must restrain it once more. For now, she relishes the feeling of the warm juicy flesh flowing down her throat as she easily tears into it like butter before gulping it down.

'Why do I always deny myself of this guilty pleasure? It's merely necessary to live.'

Corbin finds herself reasoning with herself as she then snaps her jaws back onto the corpse for another bite. However, the inhuman woman couldn't quite ignore the ever-present guilt pressing at the back of her mind, the part that usually reasons why she can't just go massacre innocent people whenever she feels a twinge of hunger. Corbin became so caught up in her musings and feeding so much, that she hardly notices when the Creeper drags in another body for her to eat. When she smelled the fresh meat, Corbin automatically pounces on it as well, repeating the same feeding process with the same amount of fervency as before. By the time Corbin finishes up her meal, there's nothing but a few bones and miscellaneous bits she didn't bother eating. It doesn't matter though, her hunger is satiated for now.

The Creeper follows his mate's form as she settles back into her alcove and starts grooming herself, starting with her new right hand to pick off the remaining dead skin she didn't peel off. They remain in silence for a long while, as Corbin attempts to clean the blood that stuck to her skin and hair as best she could; unfortunately, she knew she couldn't wash off the blood from Darry's Bannon sweatshirt. She makes a mental note to find a source of water to help wash herself off, and maybe find a store to get some personal hygiene products. She's sure that more than a few of the bodies here contain cash in their pockets.

All the while, the Creeper didn't break his gaze from her, taking in every aspect of her to commit to memory. Corbin, on the other hand, while she acts as if she didn't see him, is still very much aware of the male's presence and his unwavering stare. She can sense he wants something from her, but what, she can't tell with how muddled his mind appears to be on the subject. However, she wasn't willing to give it to him so easily, even though he did feed her.

'Why doesn't he leave?'

She thought while glaring at him with her peripheral vision as she picks dry spots of blood out of her hair. She restlessly squirms in her alcove, unable to shake off the unblinking stare that she knows is directed towards her. Out of discomfort or some other unnamed emotion, Corbin feels her blood starting to boil while the hair on the back of her neck rises. She swallows a growl to herself, yet she refuses to back down from whatever pathetic game he's playing. Unknown to her, Creeper had no such intentions at all, honestly, having no real concrete goal as of that moment. This goes on for a while longer until Corbin breaks the silence.

"What do you want?"

She snaps, not hiding the contempt in her voice. Still, the Creeper continues to stare and doesn't answer. He gives the barest tilt of his head as he gives Corbin an inquisitive look with his grey-blue eyes before glancing down at the remains of her meal. The female gives a huff, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. He's lucky that her mother taught her manners unlike him.

"Thank you for the meal,"

'You no good plouc...'

Corbin wisely keeps the thought to herself, however, she suspects that he could easily pick up her true thoughts with no need to read her mind. Honestly, she couldn't really bother to care outside of whether or not this could break their truce.

"Is that what you want to hear?"

The Creeper doesn't say anything, which made Corbin surmise that he's someone who rather keeps their thought to themselves. Instead, he gives a shrug before seemingly changing his mind and answers with a firm nod instead. Corbin watches in disinterest as the Creeper crouches to the ground to rummage through what remains of her meal, picking out some bones before leaving without a word. This leaves her to stew in her own extreme boredom.

It doesn't help that her meal helped to revitalize her energy, which she saw no way of dispensing effectively within these walls. She scratches her claws and talons against the cold concrete, leaving white lines behind. Eventually, these white lines become images scratched into the walls, still, Corbin would have rather prefer having done this in her sketchbook with pen or pencil. She gives a heavy sigh as she realizes she realizes she may not be getting it back. It doesn't help that she drew some of her best work are within those pages, including one of her and...

"Hijo de puta!"

Corbin growls to herself when she realizes what she drew as she spaced out. Two women, both who looked to be at the top of a ship's mast; one of them with curly hair wearing hoop earings; the other, in the air with her wings and tail keeping her afloat; both of them connected by the hands they tenderly held. The inhuman woman feels her heart twist at the image she made, threatening to sink her in its despair. What she also drew on the floor at her feet only made her drown in it; a young child wearing a loincloth with his hands in the air as if he were asking for some unseen parent to pick him up. Corbin reaches a hand out to caress the child's image as if she were doing so to the real thing before doing the same with the image of the unknown woman.

As usual, a flurry of emotions courses through her at any reminders of them; longing, melancholy, remorse, guilt, comfort, fondness, love, with the most prominent being the familiar grief that clings with their memory. She squeezes her eyes shut as she wills the tears threatening to spill out away, remembering just in time that she's not alone in this place. She will not risk him seeing her in such a state, she won't give him any more hold over her. So, with a shuddering breath and a murmured apology in her mother tongue, Corbin rakes her talons over the images. She does this over and over again until she's certain no living being could make them out; even though each swipe of her claws felt like one to her soul.

Corbin continues her task even as she hears familiar footprints as to not raise suspicion, making it seem like she was merely sharpening her claws. Fortunately, the Creeper makes no comments when he stops a few feet away from her spot. He then makes a low grunt to signal Corbin's attention which, to his delight, she gives. She stops scratching into the walls to turn her head in his direction with no hint of her earlier inner turmoil.

"What do you want now?"

The Creeper points up at the ceiling in response with one hand before offering it toward her with a tilt of his head and, if she's being bold, a slightly hopeful look in his eyes. Corbin turns herself around fully toward him to stretch out her limbs. The Creeper perks up, assuming that means his mate will hunt with him, but much to his confusion, instead, she crisscrosses her legs before giving him a neutral expression.

"Do you have a name?"

The Creeper gives a dubious nod, wondering what she's planning. Unbeknownst to him, Corbin had no ulterior motives other than for a distraction. Unfortunately, he happened to be the closest person to do so.

"Many..."

"Do you have one you go by?"

He doesn't answer, not surprising the inhuman woman. He licks his chapped lips before he rasps out his next words.

"No..."

Corbin considers this information as she briefly thinks up a reply.

"Maybe you have forgotten?"

The Creeper doesn't give any reply besides a blank stare. Corbin decides not to pry, for now, instead, choosing to give her own.

"I've gone by many names as well, but I'll always remember the one my mother gave to be, Corbin."

"Corrrrbin..."

She finds herself loathing the way her name rolled off Creeper's tongue sent a pleasant spark down her body. Corbin doesn't miss the toothy grin he gave when he realizes what effect this had on her, which made her automatically want to maul it.

"Va, don't wear it out or assume you can use it to summon me at your beck and call."

Corbin warns with a hard flick of her newly repaired tail. Without any indicators, Corbin gets out of her alcove and starts climbing up the walls and up on the ceiling. The Creeper follows in bewilderment as she weaves around obstacles effortlessly as if her body were made of water. He finds himself barely able to keep track of her if it weren't for sounds she made from her claws clicking against pipes and concrete. However, Corbin couldn't care less whether or not the male following her could keep up, too distracted by the giddy swelling in her heart as she races toward her goal. Eventually, both of them come to the roof of the abandoned factory where the sun beamed down on it, lighting the entire area.

Stepping out from the dark factory, Corbin took a moment to close her eyes and just feel the heavenly glow warm her to her very core. She then stretches out both her great black wings, savoring the slight breeze around them, to also bask in the sunlight. Meanwhile, the Creeper observes his female, who has his back turned to him, which allows him to observe how the sunlight lightens her membranes into a more translucent dark grey with visible veins. Corbin then folds them back against her back, concealed once more under Darry's sweatshirt. She then takes a seat on the ground from where she stands, crossing her legs over one another with her chin tilted up toward the sun, her muscles visibly relaxing as the scales absorb the warmth beaming down. To the outside eye, Corbin would've appeared to be meditating or as a gargoyle statue.

Personally, the Creeper would've preferred that Corbin got rid of the article of clothing, just so he didn't have to smell another male's scent clinging to his mate. However, from the brief glance he got of her back, she wore a grey tank top underneath. He ultimately decides it would be unwise to take it from her if she were to hunt with him since she'll need the cover-up. The Creeper then walks over to Corbin, his shadow enveloping her form but she doesn't make any acknowledgment of his presence. The Creeper lets out a low growl before he circles over to crouch in front of her. Still, Corbin doesn't open her eyes, instead, maintaining her serene expression as if the source of her scourge isn't right in front of her. She finally peaks open one fire-colored eye when she feels Creeper's warm breath wash over her face. She doesn't flinch, only glaring back at the Creeper, whose brow is deeply furrowed with his jaws clenched tightly. While this may cause the average human to wet themselves, it appears to have no effect on the inhuman woman.

"Are you not enjoying this fine day?"

Corbin makes no attempt to conceal the heavy dry sarcasm and irritation from him. The Creeper gives another growl before abruptly standing up and walking away from her. He then turns back towards her with clawed finger-pointing at the 9. Corbin's gaze follows where the Creeper is pointing before looking back toward him with a disinterested expression.

"You wish for me to hunt with you?"

The Creeper gives a fervent nod of his head, however, any hope he had of his mate coming along is quickly erased when she shakes her head.

"Thanks, but no thanks."

Corbin then stretches out her limbs forward, much like a cat, before lying on her stomach with her large wings spread out, pretty much becoming an overgrown lizard basking.

"I'm fine where I am."

The Creeper lets out another frustrated growl before shaking his head and letting out a huff instead. Perhaps he can try again later, seeing as Corbin is in a more peaceful mood might make her more agreeable. He just has to wait and not rush anything, although she has to make it so needlessly difficult! No, he has to stay composed unless he wishes to lose any hold of the situation.

The Creeper walks around Corbin, careful to not kick or step on any of the ravens starting to flock around her. Said female listens intently at the sound of fading boot steps which isn't followed too long after the sound of an old engine starting. She gets up from her spot and disturbing some of her ravens who just settled, to which she's quick to apologize. Nonetheless, the ravens clear a path as Corbin walks toward the ledge where she can see the wretched truck becoming smaller and smaller the farther it drives away.

Corbin lets out a sigh of relief when it's finally out of her sight. She leans her arms against the ledge turns her head toward Beowulf, her favorite one-eyed raven. She gives a small smile before delicately petting the feathers on his head then down the length of his whole body, which he makes a noise in delight to.

"You know, I've been cooped up for too long,"

She gives a thoughtful hum as she looks toward the west where the afternoon sun soon will set.

"and I've sorely missed the skies."

Beowulf takes off into the air, hovering nearby as Corbin steps onto the ledge. Unfurling her wings, she then dives off the building before using her tail to help her smoothly maneuver higher into the air. Corbin is then shortly joined by her unkindness of Corvus as she makes her way towards her destination that she's seen through Beowulf's eye. As the wind whips through her dark hair, she feels light as the air around her, almost able to forget her entire situation and her uncertain future. Keyword, almost.

So what do you guys think? Cause ain't nobody putting Corbin in a corner but herself! Oh! and good news, I have my own Deviantart account! You can check out some of my art for my stories, art classes, and whatever comes to mind all under the same username as my Wattpad account! Here's the link, please go check it out ( jazzyhands02/gallery) Stay weird, my fellow humans.