ORIGIN

Envy relaxed somewhat as the spider yielded, letting out a breath and brushing themselves off before turning to look, proudly, at Narcissus. They fully expected to see a look of adoration on his face, the light in his eyes shimmering, perhaps for him to bowl forward and bow at their paws...

It was then that they noticed the scent though. Their nose twitched to the bitterness, their quills perking upright. And suddenly they found themselves thinking, stopping in momentary hesitation. This feeling was strange, unusual... what had happened to all their pain? it was pleasant enough, sure, but it was as though a pillow had been stuffed into their brain, rendering them happy, but stupid.

It hadn't occurred to them that they might be under a spell.

But their attention was drawn back to the matter at hand as they heard a shrieking yell, full of anger and pain. The weasel whipped around just in time to see a set of slavering jaws looming, and every inch of spikes along their length stood on end. They hastily reached for their magic, but it was too late; their crown went tinkling across the floor as they were seized in the creature's jaws, her jaws crushing the wind out of their ribcage. They let out an ungodly screech, their serpentine body thrashing. They felt their blood flowing free, their ribs breaking one by one, and agony shot through them in waves.

But it was impossible that their assailant wouldn't end up with a mouthful of quills herself, and the more the weasel struggled, the deeper they would drive.

Their tail began to leak with a metallic substance, thrashing and stabbing, flailing wildly and unpredictably.

Eventually, their screams gave way to a strangled choking sound.

Speech. Thought.

Envy hardly felt the bearcat let go. Even as she unhooked her fangs, the pain remained, dark stains spreading rapidly through their fur. They hit the ground with a muffled thud, choking softly, before staggering onto their fours, then back down with a shrill cry.

They struggled for their magic, feeling the blood gushing from their wounds, leaving red stains against the icy ground beneath them. They felt their fur fizzle with energy, and in a moment the wounds had closed, but it wasn't enough. Pains still seethed through them, they could hardly stand and entire clumps of quills had been yanked out, now embedded in the binturong's maw.

Without knowing what else to do, they struggled towards Narcissus-- a moment ago, their love-- and now, a blinking light of hope. They made it to his paws, and collapsed at his feet, falling into a bedraggled and bloody heap, their chest heaving.

"M-my throne," they choked out. "I have to get back to my throne..."

They struggled, through guttering breaths and aching pains. And then a moment later, they were unconscious.

-exit Envy-

Speech. Thought.