cynical about the judgement day

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Ahesh chiori.

She heard the words before she saw the man. And when she turned, her eyes narrowed. Another that knew her mother tongue. But how could it be? Skepticism and suspicion filled her gaze.

“Anha vo nakhaan mae ahesh chiori, — I am not only snow woman,” she was quick to inform him. “Anha ajjalani. — I am blood woman.” For that is what she had become.

And all would know it.

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He mocked her. How dare he!

Curling back her lip, she showed her own teeth in the form of a snarl. “Firesof ana vekhat vo mori mae yer. — How I came to be is not your business.” And yet he thought he had such rights to know. Fool.

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He did not speak again, but aired a challenge. One she was willing to accept.

This one would not speak her tongue and question her presence. He was beneath her until proven otherwise. Just like all the others.

Slithering close with a foaming maw, she snapped her teeth in warning; a final chance. Not that he deserved it. But in some way, he was given mercy. Whether a strange, he was of her own. But this would be as far as her kindness stretched.

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He did not wish her warning, nor wait. He lunged.

She swiveled, but was not quick enough. Teeth grazed her shoulder. Fury bubbled within her, fueling her determination.

Whirling, she lashed out a forepaw, then lunged, teeth aiming straight for his throat.

No more waiting. No more mercy. She would have blood. His blood.

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His blood was warm, oozing on her tongue.

When she found her hold, she held it, even going as far to sink her teeth deeper. She would have more of what craved. Even if it was not to the depth she wished. She could have taken more from him, if she wanted it.

And by that, she didn't mean blood.

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Victorious, she tore her teeth away from his flesh, taking a piece of it with her. That, and the blood she'd spilled from his body, was her reward.

My land. His voice had taken a different note. One not so demeaning. Of an equal understanding, in a sense.

The woman huffed out a mocking breath. Did he think she wished to steal the land from him? “Anha vo vinas yer shekhi. Yer laz mae hash. — I don't want your land. You can keep it.”

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Thank GOODNESS! My fingers were hurting from all the back and forth sobbing

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He laughed. Her eyes narrowed. But she not threaten again with her teeth. He spoke a valid point. Yet still, she was not convinced.

“Those land far, not my path. This land here. Not for me.” Or so she didn't yet believe.

Could he convince her otherwise?

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Her brows drew down, wary.

“Why blood woman want your voice? Could find other.” Could she, if there even were others?

But his was the first, and thus should have been her first choice. Maybe it was. Though, she wouldn't admit it. Not unless he gave her an honest reason to.

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Scolding. He reminded her of those men. The ones she laid waste to. They were nothing, though. Not quite like this one. Or so she'd deduced.

She pondered. But silence didn't last long. “Don't trust strange land.” This one wasn't so strange now. But that didn't mean she fully trusted it. “Blood woman stay. Maybe forever.” She would give no guarantee. It was too early to tell.

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Did she have a name? Yes. Would she give it to him? Undecided.

For a moment, she stared up. Silence. Thoughtful. She liked it when he called her blood woman. She had earned it, and he knew.

“Rhaenya,” she answered. It was risky, but decisive.

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