Jessandra Verdon Lookhart
The cat, the mouse, and the grackle, though they made excellent progress, often stopped for breaks. Two weeks of slavery had obviously taken their toll on the trio- there was no reason it shouldn't have done so. They sat in silence, as if they did not wish to wast breath on one another.
Jessandra's belly rumbled in complaint- if she were home, she would be sitting at the head of a fine table, filled with as much food as she desired. Her yellow eyes grew clouded over, as she gave herself over to a pleasant fantasy- fresh, sweet fish, fine wines, roasted woodpigeons… how fine it would be to taste bird-flesh again… a sharp tug on the chain brought the cat back to reality. She hissed a little.
Sturnus was croaking, the sound deep and low in his throat. His eyes were wide with an unexplained mixture of fear and sadness, as if the walking featherduster had somehow managed to pick up what Jess had been fantasizing about. He gave another sorrowful croak.
"What is it, featherbrains? Scared the nasty swamp monsters are going to come to get you?" She growled mockingly, and narrowed her eyes to slits, mimicking some fearsome beast.
"No, no, Jessie," said Sturnus, and nodded at the thick growth of slime-covered trees that surrounded them. She cast her gaze about, searching in vain for something other than the gray-green mass of trees and the darkling shadows of the swamp. A shrub of poisonous white oleander, a slimy rock in the middle of an equally slimy pool- nothing extraordinary jumped out at her. She was just about to give up, suggest they put a stop to their break and continue with the walking (Blake was beginning to look particularly irritated) when her search was rewarded by the sound of feeble chirping. Her ears perked up- there, there was the source. A gray-brown mess of twigs… a nest.
"Mother gone," rasped the grackle, "and little ones alone."
"Ah." She ran her tongue over her needle-sharp fangs, and grinned nastily. "All the better for me, I suppose." At this, Sturnus clacked his beak and cocked his head to the side in confusion.
"Marm… Jess… I don't think you-" Blake called out softly in warning.
"Quiet, you two," she snapped, "and give me a boost."
Blake sighed, and furrowed his brow- frustration was evident on the mouse's face. Let Jessandra make her attempt at dinner, and scare the living daylights out of Sturnus… or refuse the lady, angering her further? He seemed to come to a solution.
"I'm not entirely sure the chains will allow for that, marm- it is a very high tree, and we can't take the risk of having one of our number injured any further."
"You're just saying that to humor Birdbrains here," she hissed. "By the powers that be, I'll have my dinner, and I'll have it now."
"Marm-"
"And don't you feed me any of this 'it's for the good of the group' nonsense-"
"Miss Jessandra-"
"I WANT MY MEAL, MOUSE-"
"No, Jessie, no! Stop!"
"Shut up, beak-for-brains, this is my fight!"
"Jessieeee-"
"Hold still, you foul little ratling, I'll rip your throat out with my claws and have you for dinner!"
"JESSANDRA-"
The lizard listened attentively. The presence of other beasts- obviously not of her own- was evident. They gave themselves away. A slithery, croaking rattle that might have been a laugh escaped her throat.
Oh, yes. The Lord would be pleased indeed.