Aug. 22nd, 2012

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She rarely remembered the kill itself. The days or weeks leading up to it - the hunt, the chase, the game, the sweet scent of blood.

The scent of fear - all of it, the tears, the sweat, even the foul stench when they lost control and shit themselves in terror - it fascinated and drew her.

She remembered her first kill, of course, every detail perfect in her mind. After that, the deaths themselves were a blur. The tear stained faces, mouths begging, threatening, praying - they all ran together.

She remembered the feeling afterwards though. Staring at an empty sack of meat, in the moment before her mind turned to the practicalities of clean up.



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Imru nu fir Imru, it was like a fire that burned through his soul. The people do not kill the people, it was a fairly simple part of the oath but one that he had heard others trying to get around with stupid excuses, or justifications. But to him it was not something he was willing to do.

Cody turned away from the heavily barred door behind which the Zi'ir raged, it would have been easier to kill the Zi'ir than to return it to sanity but he couldn't allow himself to do that. He shook his head and looked at the scars that ran down him. It's not that it would be hard to kill, if anything it would be too damn easy. And once he started down the slippery slope it might be him on the other side of that door.

If anyone could take him down.


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