Her ears draw back and flatten further against her ivory skull with each breath that moves the body before her, boredom and agitation grasping at her until she grits her teeth and her own silken banner of ivory slashes and writhes behind her. Dainty hooves pace across the ice, heterochromatic eyes a beam of desire and loathing that penetrate the darkness, the sharp rap of her limbs echoing through the chill air that she parts with her aggressive prowling.

He takes so long to die.

She will not touch him; his stench etches deeper into her nostrils until it simply becomes the air, forgotten but for the gruesome sight it makes against his dark pelt and the slick, ancient ice, so old it is stone, it is steel. He might fight her assault, driving his infection into her own flesh, a cruel pawn of karma sent to bring the devilish one down.

"Tsk tsk," she coos to herself, for no one will kill her. She is too clever, she is too cruel. She would drag them down into hell and rise back to life on the ether of their souls for trying.

And so it continues, for a long while, the patter of her petite frame pacing the cavern and the stink of the dying man the only companions to her maddened mumbling and tittering giggles. Aggression etches deeper and deeper into her flesh until finally she flies at the man huddled against the ice, face a grimacing mask of rage and ears pinned tightly against her fine, drifting white mane.

The snowy tassels surround her face as she glares down at him, horn tip angled as if to drive into his chest but halted just before the impact, a snarl ravaging her pretty voice into a carnal sound of hunger and a lust for blood. Spittle sprays from her lips and smacks against the crumpled beast, eyes wild and glowing, the whites punctured by the hot red of her blood as it pounds through her veins.

"FUCKING DIE ALREADY!" she nearly howls, tossing her head back angrily and rearing and stamping in the most perverse tantrum that the cavern had perhaps ever seen; her tongue is clipped in her aggression, the saliva splaying from her crazed lips pink tinged foam that stinks of metal and life. The flailing of the small ivory one ceases in a final uproar which results in several small chunks of ice being kicked quite aggressively in the direction of the stranger with the elk’s skull, a loud snort blasting through the expanse of the cave as she struggles to regain the breath that her rage stole away from her.

"Ice. Damnable filthy, frigid dog sucking ice," her words are raspy, her shouting having tortured her vocal chords so that she now gravely groans each word as she resumes her pacing, "keeps the stench at bay, keeps your death away..."

She stops, suddenly, head rising quickly and her eyes snapping over at the man she had just seconds before wanted to drift off into nothingness as quickly as possible, her fervent and deranged mind now pinned on another fact that has hit her with the suddenness of a thousand pounds of hard brick.

He had ignored her.

Mother fucker.

"You shit!" she shouts, glaring at him with an expression of contempt for having been disregarded so completely upon her arrival, "you rude ignorant shit! Don't you know who I am?! Does the rot eat upon your brain?!"

And more rocks begin sailing towards the fallen man, kicked by the aggravated bitch so unwilling to touch the festering stallion before and anymore than she had to.



Beloved
rust every place that I touch