Moira awoke with a start and a snarl. She sat bolt upright and looked around wildly. She was alone. It was quiet. The hot, high noon sun was directly overhead and the apparently long hours laying splayed out in its heat, unconscious, had done her no favors. She had a splitting headache, and her mouth tasted sour. She was Definity sunburnt.. From somewhere nearby a fetid cloying stink of something dead permeated the air, baking into the still, hazy summer air. She tried to clear her nose and spit but discovered her mouth was too dry to expel. This only worsened Moira's mood. She smacked her lips in aggravation and groaned as she staggered to her feet. She looked down at her person in irritation; She was bare, her fine dress and slippers from the night before were but soiled rags that clung to her frame in wisps. She was more or less caked entirely over with dried blood, which was a non-plus but upon further examination, she noticed that the most of, if not all of the blood had at some point until recently belonged to someone else. This realization made her feel almost cheerful. She sniffed her skin delicately; human.
Disgusting. Her stomach would hate her for a few days certainly. She must have had some kind of late night craving.. She didn't even really enjoy the taste of humans, they tended to either have too much or never enough fat on them. She'd only really had a GOOD human once, a lithe and strong young farmer she'd found tending his spring growth in the early morning years ago. Tan, muscles glistening as he worked his field, completely unaware of her approach. A big boy. He went down so fast he didn't even cry out. She still remembered the way his blood painted those tender green shoots in a crimson morning dew as she devoured him. Succulent. Now… THAT had been a well-marbled piece of meat… She felt the familiar ache under her tongue as her salivary glands seemed to pick up that she was thinking of food, and now finally having enough moisture in her mouth. She spit. She sighed, content at clearing some of the nastiness in her mouth as she dusted herself off absently and looked around at the ruined remains of what was probably until last night a very quaint little village. The source of the stink from earlier was identified, flies were already descending in droves. She really had maybe made a bit of a mess..
Moira sighed, well couldn't be helped now. She picked over the carnage, trying comically to not step in any of the offal as she slowly made her way down to a nearby creek where she could wash her dinner off. The water was frigid, glacial runoff from the craggy white peaks above, but as it sluiced off her skin it refreshed her. She scrubbed and pawed at the filth on her skin until it was nearly the same color as her hair and worried at the knots in her tangled mane until it was smooth and navigable with fingers alone. Once clean, she emerged from the icy waters to air dry, a little red-skinned and raw but shining and triumphant. She sat on a warm grassy spot to wring her hair dry. She began to hum to herself, as she so often used to, and placed an unconscious hand upon her belly. The stretchmarks thereupon belied her recent delicate state. The cruelest of fate, or a curse… Or just some twisted unfortunate freak accident had robbed her of her pups before they could even draw breath. And somehow even more cruelly, her life-mate was taken soon after. She stopped humming, remembering suddenly, achingly that there was no longer anyone to enjoy those soothing tones. She felt the empty chasm in her chest and the one in her belly.. the howling biting black wind ripping through it tearing tiny pieces of her away each time like grains of sand gouged from a mountainside. She closed her eyes. There was no time to grieve now.
Moira just sat for a few minutes, grounding herself in the quiet, and feeling the earth beneath her, savoring the sound of the creek and the birds… of nature. She stayed like this for a moment when a sound nearby caught her attention; a small splash. It was followed by a muffled chuff, like a sob cut short.
Being recently fed and under no allusions about whether she could not easily rip the head off of whatever entity had disturbed her peace in this area of the world, Moira took an uncharacteristically indulgent approach to being interrupted. Perhaps it was her moment of sentimentality.
"Who goes there.." She called out, it a loud clear voice, without even a hint of growl.
She lay on her elbow, lazily in the sun, watching the bushes with interest as a small figure crept from behind them. She frowned. It was a child. A wretched human thing. Filth from head to toe, wearing aught but a piece of ragged sackcloth, it hugged its skinny arms tight about its frame. Its gaunt face looked up at her with wide empty eyes, the light and hoped behind them having been hollowed out by whatever horror they had witnessed. Too much dried blood stained their cloth. As the creature continued to stumble towards her on bare dirty feet, Moira sighed and stood up. She folded her arms in front of her and looked down at the creature. The child was probably a 'survivor' from the village last night. She gave it a once over and suddenly didn't feel bad one bit about that village. If THIS was what life looked like to them? Suffering, hunger, and squalor? Better a quick end, a mercy. Like this little one's would be momentarily.
The sad creature made it a few more steps and then fell in an undignified heap at her feet. "Please Miss…" it's voice cracked. "please.." Their dry scabby lips continued to move but no more words issued forth from the being. It fainted at her feet.
She made to reach for the creature's cloth, she really had no desire to come into contact with its skin having just endured a particularly brutal bath.. but she did pity it in a sort of way.. She would make this quick. As she gently lifted the bundle handbag-style and set it against a tree, it seemed to come-to slightly, just enough to make eye contact.. The familiar flash of white-hot fear in its face, then unexpectedly: calm.. then something else, something even more alien… gut-wrenching Trust. She could see her own eyes reflected back in those of the kid. They were green, like hers. The child offered a broken little smile.
"Thank you miss….thank you." They hoarsed before slipping away again. Fresh tears ran clean tracks down the otherwise filthy little face but for all the world, the sad creature looked to have found a moment's peace.
Moira frowned and knitted her brows together in a furrow. "Don't thank me, kid.." She closed her hand around its fragile throat, like the bones of a bird... light as a feather. It would be quick, painless. This wretched thing had suffered enough. And then she saw it:
The bite. A Were's bite… Fresh, from last night. Over the neck, shoulder, and left arm of the creature before her were the remains of a savage wound. One that would not have been survivable by a mere human, let alone a small one. But here it was; well on its way to being fully healed, and healing Clean, despite its host's state. The change was already happening. Would the child have lived, they'd have carried the scar for their entire life… it would have been the clarion call for their second birth, a birth of strength and blood of fur and teeth.. like Hers had been. She fingered the thing white ghost of the scar at her own throat as she mulled these thoughts. But… It could live, couldn't it?
The child began to stir, drawn no doubt by the smell of cooking meat. When they sat up, they groggily rubbed their eyes and were greeted by the most beautiful thing they had ever seen: a small table had been set up beside them, and upon it was a beautiful spread of all the finest food one could imagine! Fruits, and honeyed cakes! Little roasted fishes and handfuls of walnuts! A big wedge of good brown bread, even a chunk of cheese! The most marvelous thing of all though was the pair of fresh squirrels that were currently cooking over a spit on a cheery little fire filling the camp with their scent. The squirrels only held the child's attention for a moment though.
Seated next to the fire, was an Angel.. She was tall. The tallest woman the child had ever seen, big and strong with a cloud of fiery red hair that framed her face. She was clad in fine dark shimmering silks and glinting jewels that only added to the ethereal effect, but she seemed to not be too worried over soiling them as she sat on the ground with her legs folded, in the way that warriors do. Visible beneath her dress, were heavy men's boots. She watched the child carefully, an exotic eyeshine that reminded them of a dog's glinted in her eyes.
"Come here, Pup." She said firm but gently. The child stood for a moment, trembling. But found their feet and walked towards the Angelic being. Try as they might to keep their focus on her, the food was so tempting, and they felt their eyes wander longingly as they walked past.
Moira laughed. Yes.. all that is for you. But first we are going to talk. Sit.
She gestures to the ground on the other side of the fire. The child sat, unsure what was about to happen, afraid it was all a dream..
Moira leveled her gaze at the child. "Do you know what happened to your village?"
The child flinched and looked at the ground. "We….ah, i-it was a monster."
Moira's face was an unreadable mask. "Yes." She said. "It was. A wolf."
"wolf…" the child parroted, seemingly unaware they were doing it, they scratched at the edge of their wound along the collar of their sack, as if tasting the word for the first time. The name of the thing that took their world away; Wolf.
"Yes.. a particularly dangerous one. How did you get away from her?"
"I hid.. It bit me, but.. let go, maybe I didn't taste good. It threw me and chased some other people. I crawled under a wagon. Were..I-.. is there anybody else?"
"No.." Moira said, firm but gently as she watched the child's expression. "That village is gone now. Everyone else is dead now. In fact.. in a way you died too."
"Oh…" was all the child said for a moment and then watched the fire, seeming to look for words. "I…died?"
"Yes. In a matter of speaking. From your injuries, I'd imagine. But your body is becoming strong again.. and you will live. But not as a human. You will be like me: something new."
"A…a 'Wolf'?" The child ventured, and Moira mentally applauded their quickness.
"Yes."
"Does… does that mean I-I'm free?"
"Free?" Now Moira was the one parroting.
The child seemed to war with themselves for a moment "I… I'm a…a slave miss. I was sold to my uncle's farm when my mama died a long time ago. I…" Their words seemed to peeter out before they left their mouth. The child recoiled immediately, misreading the fury on the Angel Woman's face as directed at them and buried their face on their knees. "I'm sorry miss! Please! Its just a question..i don't know who I belong to now.. I'll serve! I promise! I'm good! I can even sew and cook! I'm good at so many things! Men and Ladies too! I promise! Please! I'll be good!" The child sobbed and rocked, fresh blood oozed from the wound upon their shoulder. A scab having broken in their anguish.
Moira stood to her full height suddenly, her nostrils flaring, she flexed and unflexed her hands.. She closed her eyes hard, willing them still. "On your feet." She snarled. The child obeyed, moving immediately quiet, but still crying.
"What is your name?"
The child flinched at this too, and their hands immediately went to cover their head, as if in shame.. their lip trembling. They looked up at Moira's own head of fiery locks, their eyes raw with tears and shame, and whispered "Miss,I I.. can't say."
Moira raised her eyebrow. "What is your name, pup? I am know for many many… things, patience is not once of them."
The child gave a heavy forlorn sigh as if they were relinquishing their very soul.
"…Lishe" and braced for pain.
Moira's mouth actually fell open. She was unprepared for it… Though she should have been. Humans were so disgusting. The 'name' meant "Red" in the tongue of the common folk but it was also a muttered curse. A terrible insult to the stupid and suspicious human masses. Once a celebrated curiosity, now red hair was synonymous with witchery and ill fortune thanks to a particularly powerful enchantress of some renown many years back who Happened to have this distinctive feature.. In the years since, some backward places have even taken to culling their newly born if 'marked', others simply cast them out as pariahs.. or even sold them to be slaves.. Like this one. Moira too, once, knew the bite of chains against her skin..
She knew that Name too, and why the child was so reticent to use it in front of her. She had to squint to even see, but sure enough; like her the child indeed had a fine crop of flaming red locks upon their head beneath all the dirt and gore. Moira took another deep breath and spoke.
"Look at me, 'Lishe' the Slave.." Her eyes were hard, and words more so. "Look at me and hear me now.. Human."
Lishe's lip trembled but their back was straight. They were listening.
"That is a dead name.. an UGLY name. Unfit for us. A CURSE. You will never speak that filthy word in my presence again. Do you understand me? Do not speak, now. Nod."
Lishe nodded.
"You are a filthy human slave.." Moira sneered. "Cursed from birth. Marked. Your very presence is seen as a portent of ill fortune" Lishe flinched, but nodded. "No longer.." Moira pointed into the darkness.
"For your LAST act as a slave. I demand this of you; go now to the creek there.. Wash the filth of 'Lishe' from your body.. scrub until your skin bleeds, wash every part of you, everything that they have ever been seen or touched or thought about with their vile human hearts, and then when you have finished, return to me. I will have a New name for you, and new clothes, and you will eat your fill, as a free being."
The small human wobbled for a second, looking up at her, as if still processing the command, and looked for all the world as if they may faint again, but years of practice overrode their struggling brain and their feet carried them off without another sound or even looking back.
Once the pup was out of sight, Moira sighed and cracked her neck, trying to shake free of the rage building up. She knelt to her haunches and then took off in the opposite direction at speed. A roiling inferno burned in her belly, her eyes alight. It turns out? She still had some small business in that little ghost village after all.