ORIGIN - THREE TICKETS PLEASE

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Aethril's lips quirked upwards in clear amusement. "I'm not a Queen," she told Obieth. "But I suppose I'm something similar. Most will obey my word if they're aware of what I am, but it won't stop them from lying to my face if they think they'll get away with it-- and when people feel a sense of distrust to someone, like when they get their bodyguards to look into their minds, they'll be more inclined to lash out."

Her hands shifted idly, fingers raking along the bumps of Obieth's chest before moving back up to her head and using her fingertips to massage the underside of the Valkhound's chin and cheeks with absent-minded movements. She was contemplating-- meat candy could be made. Frozen blood with some meat chunks in it might work out. Obieth didn't seem the type for sweet things.

Maybe she'd like spice.

"Just a few minutes," she answered Pollen. "Don't worry about it." Her gaze, shifted back towards the screen as she fell quiet, watching for the images to reappear.

@Obieth

exit

Obieth listened to the explanation. She didn't entirely understand it, but she accepted it; Aethril was much older than her (she assumed) and knew much more (mostly proven). Anyway, her belly was full, and now the show was starting.

And Pollen had brought another gourd.

The Valkhound pulled upright, using two-taloned paws to pull the gourd to her chest; then--Aethril's hand still trailing her skull--contentedly began to pull hot dogs from the popcorn. The feeding was no longer rushed. Her eyes flicked up to the screen, taking in the show in silence (bar the quiet munching of fangs on sausage).

She held the scent of food in her nostrils, the pleasant feeling of dim shadows all around her, the awareness of familiar company to either side. Was there any creature happier than Obieth? The world would be hard-pressed to find one. She had everything she wanted, now.

exit Obieth

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