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honysuckl · 9 months

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Secret Stash | Anita & Honey

PARTNER : @gossipsnake TIMING : A week or so ago. LOCATION : Mansión Mexicana. SUMMARY : Honey finds Anita's secret in the greenhouse. WARNINGS : Unsanitary.

Honey had noticed it before, tucked away in the trees. Thought it could be kept from her, eh? While the flowers had yet to be seen, she knew they were there. Her loves only kept away by those sheets of glass and metal that made up the greenhouse. It was too large for personal use, but she was certain it was, considering the owner. Anita held an anger towards minimalism. What nested inside was guaranteed to be equally extravagant to its exterior. But instead of flowers, when she looked through the supposed glass, all she could see was darkness. Tragic. She knew the beauties inside were too lovely to be loved by one. She needed to see; perhaps share. It’s not like Anita would ever be able to tell, anyway.

Honey looked around again, expecting the woman to appear just from mere thought. But, no. Still nothing. That’s why she was here, after all, to keep Fluffy busy in absence of the house’s occupants. And she had kept the wee thing so busy he went right into a long nap. Taking advantage of her solitude (for once) she made quick with the locks. Locks! Plural! Her certainty grew stronger. One almost stopped her pursuit before it began, but her stubbornness eventually won out. All the locks clattered to the ground. The door opened.

Those flowers Honey had desired so desperately never met her comprehension. Maybe there were never flowers. She didn’t know, not then. Her attention was stolen by the pull. It gripped her soul and whispered a command, the one she was always happy to follow. Eat, eat, eat. Bite. Tear. The flesh was like butter from rot and decay. It tasted just as sweet. Her teeth scrapped bone before she even needed to chew. A tenderness that made her frenzy.

When moving to Wicked’s Rest, Anita was torn on which part of town she wanted to live in. Downtown screamed with the energy and excitement of all the bars, clubs, shops, and people. Harborside was drenched in wealth and opulence. Then there was Seven Peaks - a plot of land abutting The Pines that was fresh for her molding - sufficiently cut off from the main parts of town. The benefit of seclusion was privacy, of course. Neither Anita nor her roommate needed people regularly looking around and observing their day to day activities.

Plus, with so much land, Anita was able to construct her little haven - her greenhouse. Green wasn’t exactly the right word for it, however, as there was very minimal plant life inside. Instead the walls were filled with decay and thousands of insects who thrived in such a ghastly environment. She never got too into the forensic side of entomology but she did love seeing how small arthropods could break down bodies with methodical ease. That’s what existed beyond her greenhouse doors, which is why they were always kept locked tight.

While out on a hike earlier in the day she had come across a recently slain chipmunk. Not as large as the two human remains that were decomposing underneath the soil of her greenhouse, but worthy enough of bringing back home along with the few maggots that had already taken host. But as Anita approached, she saw that one of the doors was wide open. Her body tensed. Nobody else had a key. Nobody else needed to know what was inside. As she approached, she heard strange but not unfamiliar noises emanating from within. Someone … something… was feasting on her science projects.

Dropping the chipmunk carcass, Anita picked up a shovel kept on the outside of the greenhouse doors and quietly took a few steps inside - ready to go full lamia if she needed to. “Can I help you?” She asked, in a tone that made it quite clear she had no intention of doing any such thing.

Fear was laced into every fiber of muscle. Honey could feel it: the corpse’s last moment of dread before darkness. It always left the worst aftertaste, but the soul needed a proper place to rest. The flesh was turned to ribbon between the spaces of her teeth. She slurped them back into her mouth, along with the flies yet to breach. Her tongue was not so accurate. Bits tumbled along her chin, stroking down her neck until they met… Her clothes! With realization came a moment of clarity. This shit was always a fucking nightmare to remove. If she could remove it. At least the clothes themselves were obedient in that regard. Her cardigan was dropped onto the ground. Her shirt quickly followed, though it had certainly come to know the surrounding rot well. Oh, a problem to deal with in the future. The present demanded a return to that rot.

That reunion was short-lived. While a moment prior may have had Honey completely devoted to the flesh, that clarity kept her ears open to the world. Open to the approach of the stranger. She didn’t care who was on the other side of the wall. Her diet always caused others to run towards her to fight or away from her to warn. Neither would be appreciated. She removed her dirks from their sheathes. They gleamed in the dim light—a shine soon to be dulled under a layer of the stranger’s blood.

Well, until Honey realized it was no stranger at all. “...A-ida?” Her voice struggled past a chunk of muscle. It fell down her throat in one gulp. Right! Anita! The flesh had not only removed any thought of her clothes, but of any thought at all! Its spontaneous reveal had her acting the same. She then had the chance to consider: why the hell did Anita have this? But Honey was familiar with the arrangement, though her experiences were more simple. At times, she too would pile bodies in wait for hunger to return. She let out a laugh. “Oho! Is this, what, yer fridge a’ sorts?”

Carefully and cautiously, Anita evaluated the situation that was playing out in front of her. Honey, her roommate's hot friend, was standing before her with partially decomposed human remains on her face and no shirt on. It was a two-way street of suspicion. Metzli had made a vague passing reference to how much Honey was like them, and it appears that lacking a pulse was one of those things in common.

It didn’t take long for Anita to spot the blades held tightly in Honey’s hands. Her shovel wasn’t much of a match but if she needed to use her scales for protection she knew that she could. Her tone had been friendly, but her actions seemed defensive. “More of a scientific project than a fridge.” Even though her roommate trusted her, Antia didn’t know how this situation would play out for her. Would Honey tell people what she had going on back here? Would she try to blackmail Anita for her silence? “It’s forensic entomology. Seeing how various organic matter breaks down with the assistance of various insects. It’s for work.”

The explanation wasn’t false, but it did not provide a reason as to why Anita had human remains decomposing in there along with various woodland creatures. Having dead bodies wasn’t more suspicious than eating dead bodies, however. “I take it you were hungry?” It wasn’t an accusatory statement - more like Anita just trying to open the door to a conversation of further understanding. This could end peacefully and she would prefer it if it did.

“Och, aye, right.” The skepticism was clear in Honey’s voice. Not one meant to judge, but in the tone of whispers, like friends sharing a secret. She knew it was hard for many to reveal their true nature. A nature she knew well! Oh, how she knew the tantalization of a soul and the supple touch of decay. It was a wonder she did not return to it then, it was surely more interesting than any conversation could hope to be. That control of hers had been hard won after all this time mingling amongst humans. Anita seemed the same. Honey couldn’t even see that telling twitch and strain that always betrayed herself in her best of times. Huh. Curious. “Just a fridge for the wee crawlies.” She offered to play with the explanation. Perhaps there was a touch of truth in it: there were certainly many critters about. A sharing soul!

Honey could see Anita’s eyes go down. There were many possibilities, such as her breasts or the gore cupping each. It was those she had assumed at first, but the angle of the pupils wasn’t right. No. It was her dirks that had stolen the show. She chuckled. “No made up a’ good bites meself. Too strong a’ taste for most.” Her flesh was only delectable for a select few—was Anita one of those few? Well, she could not recall stories of those sorts having the capacity to look so human. Well, not that her lack of memory was any damning evidence. Best to keep those blades of hers close. “But aye. Had a want for nibbles.” Sweet nibbles for Anita and the critters she so loved. It was then the reality of her encroachment fully settled. “Ach, right. Yer nibbles.” She hissed, “O mo chreach.” Flowers were one thing, but humans weren’t the easiest to store. At least, not to the point of delicious decay. No wonder Anita wielded that shovel. She herself would have done the same and worse! There was a moment of awkward grumbling, but with a nod, she settled into resolve. “I will go ‘n replace the sweet nibbles I took. ”

Had nearly anyone else broken into the greenhouse, Anita would likely view it as a necessity to add them to the very shallow graves they had discovered. A human certainly would not be able to be trusted with the information. Anyone else would have to be on a case-by-case basis. Unfortunately for the both of them, Anita didn’t really know Honey very well - or at all, really. Despite that, she felt that she had enough data points to evaluate this situation and the most likely outcomes.

“I’m not the one looking for a snack.” Antia replied, firmly but not aggressively. She’d never eaten anyone undead before, didn’t sound very appetizing in all honesty. She liked her meals fresh and warm. From what she knew about their shared world, Honey was likely a zombie. Anita couldn’t imagine any other species tearing through the decaying human flesh with such precision - at least not while still looking human. The question became whether or not Honey knew that Anita was lamia. The behavior she had uncovered wasn’t inherent to Anita’s species - just inherent to Anita.

The offer was both unexpected and kind - so much so that it caused Anita to loosen up her grip on the shovel she had still been holding. “Oh. Well, that one was near the end stages of my observations anyway.” The idea of someone else contributing to her collection made her uneasy. Anita was used to taking such diligent precautions to avoid any unwanted attention. It wasn’t that she doubted that Honey couldn’t be discrete but she just couldn’t take the chance. The last thing she needed was someone knocking on her door because a missing hiker was traced back to her greenhouse somehow. “No need to replace it. Thank you though, the offer is appreciated.”

Aye, keep your sweet secrets, Anita. It was smart to hide those sorts away, and Honey had no right prying down those walls… Despite her want. Who are you, Anita? A question that grew at the refusal of the trade. “Eh?” Who would refuse a free morsel? Especially a meal so hard to secure without the risk of becoming a meal to the state! Did Honey seem inadequately suited for such a task? Or worse, was it the end goal of sustenance not to Anita’s liking? Observations. Project. Honey suspected all were a well-rehearsed distraction from a guarded truth. But, for a moment, she saw the ‘distraction’ as true, and in that moment, she came to a disappointing conclusion. “Ach, no, dinnae say yer a clarty headed human who plays at man-hunter. Oh, they never do the shite right.”

A grievance more born from past experience than present evidence. Anita seemed far more interesting than to be revealed for one of those. Honey sternly shook her head that was paired with a quick muttering of no’s. No, these bodies were here for… something. “I see, I see, aye. Well! If not that, then…” Despite the refusal, it was rude to leave without an attempt at an offer. And she did have parts to spare. “Will trade in this!” Her blade finally found a proper target. It sliced through her own index finger. Her remaining fingers quickly caught it before it fell to the ground. Only a delay, for she nestled it into the soil, joining its brethren of death. She hoped the offering would suffice. With that, she stood and brought along her clothes. The cardigan rested on one shoulder, while her shirt the other. But she could not so freely walk out of the lion’s den, not yet. She studied Anita for a moment before twitching her blade, instructing Anita to the side. “If is trappin’ the rest a’ me ye seek, go ahead with yer best shot. But if no, then move yerself. I got a bath waitin’.”

“Ay! Don’t even say such a thing,” Anita waved her arms in slight disgust and then pretended to spit on the ground at the implication that she might be a human. She knew that when she was shifted into her human form that she had all the appearances of humanity. That always just irked her, however. She longed for a space where she could live her days in her true form. But to do so would put her at heightened risk which would necessitate heightened isolation, which she was unwilling to do.

Not because she had any qualms about blood or severed limbs or ligaments, but when Honey sliced through her index finger, Anita gasped. Why would someone do such a thing? With no hesitation and a face that was not painted with regret thereafter. That mixed with the eating rotting flesh led her mind down a very particular path.

As much disdain as she had for another telling her to move aside within her own greenhouse, Anita did not put up a fight. She took a step to the side, but stuck out her hand in front of Honey before she let her pass by. “This time, I’m stepping aside. If you break in again, or enter without my permission… this is not a courtesy I will extend twice.”

Honey chuckled at the disgust. While she did not share in the ill will—humans provided her such precious sustenance after all—she could recognize it. Oh, who are you, Anita? A curiosity they shared, for she could also recognize that look. While Honey refused to dawdle on the potential possibilities Anita was humoring, she delighted in becoming a spectacle. If only Anita would share in any telling nature. But Anita’s generosity ended at a tight eyes that loomed with a threat. Yet Honey’s dirk settled at her hip. Still grasped, of course. She knew she was encroaching on another’s territory, and when she stayed with Anita’s gaze, she could see it was the territory of a predator. Honey’s smile did not falter, but it did settle. It was no longer fueled by amusement, but by recognition. She wanted to make that threat in Anita’s eyes a reality. To make the two of them a mirror in ferocity.

Honey would be blessed another time. For the moment, she had overstayed the welcome she was never given. “Oh, I no doubt that. Ye must ken all the lovely ways to deal with the ill-footers.” She began her leave, despite her thoughts not fully done. “Gie a ring if those ‘observations’ get a bit much for you.” She snapped her teeth, offering them up for their services for such an event. Well, ‘event.’ Her use of observations had been in jest, for it must surely be a distraction. Right? Yet as soon as the word left her mouth, that strange feeling in her gut returned and festered. Anita did not seem so human, but Honey wondered if her accusation was truly off base. To kill without a thought for sustenance… The smile on her face finally fell into nothingness. “Best to ring quick. Is damn cruel to keep the souls waitin’ there so long.” She doubted Anita would heed her warning. No, if it were true, this needed her return. To right this wrong; to continue her feast. But first, those threatening eyes needed to leave her. Another time, then. The bath called to her.

The way Honey’s smile fell made Anita feel a bit uneasy, as did her word choice. The way she emphasized ‘observations’, the way she called the rotting bodies in the ground ‘souls.’ Could she really be the type of being who happily consumed human flesh while also holding the species in high regard? Their shared community, the non-human community, seemed to be fairly split on how to treat and deal with the rest of the population.

“Don’t sit up waiting for any call. I’ve managed this greenhouse all by myself for many years, hasn’t gotten to be too much for me yet - don’t expect it will any time soon.” Anita couldn’t figure out what Honey’s intentions were and she wasn’t quite sure that she really wanted to find out. Nor did she have any intention of altering her experiments at their request. The “souls” were long gone, and leaving them in the ground for Anita’s observations was not cruel - it was science.

“I’m serious, don’t come in here again.” She’d have to have a conversation with Metzli about certain spaces being off limits to houseguests. Anita didn’t want to have to kill one of her roommates' friends simply because they didn’t know how to mind their own business. But if it had to be done… she was prepared to do it.

#secret stash #thread #thread : anita #ft. anita n.#unsanitary tw

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honysuckl · 10 months

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Homeward Hound | Andy & Honey

PARTNER : @declinlalune TIMING : Recent. LOCATION : Them there woods. SUMMARY : Honey and Andy run across a hillhound out of its element. They work together to get it to a place more suitable. WARNINGS : Memory loss.

Honey was used to the sounds of screams, especially in this sort of town. Yet, she still was compelled to rush over to the curiosity. It was easy to see why it caused such screams! The size of the creature could have it mistaken for a bear, one who still clung stubbornly to its winter coat. But its elongated nose and pointed toes told a different story. Those mix-matched parts had Honey considering Chimera—until it exhaled. A breath that was solid and shimmered under the light. Suddenly, it was centuries ago, in lands just as far away. The beast’s twin was there, almost lost to the eternal white behind it, and a man. A man, yes, who spoke of…. The pups of Fenrir, yes, that’s what he had called it. But what was his name? She wanted to stay in the memory, stay with the man she knew had been important once. But then he was gone. It was all gone. It left her as cold as those mountain tops so long ago.

This pup was far from home. Not an uncommon fate in this town, with Honey too as an example. In the fading memory, its twin had stood tall. This poor one before her looked so heavy, in desperate need of rest. The world refused it such, and the pup hated the world for it. It made sure everyone else would share in its misery, as its exhale turned to roar. Turned the ground into a tundra under the blast, a poor mimic of home. It was not enough. The ice barely had a chance to shiver across her toes before its assault was done. But the beast was surely not. It took a step forward, and another, and more. The humans’ shouts surrendered to its might as they all retreated in silence.

Honey remained. She couldn’t leave the poor thing. Did it even know how to get back home? Or, well, some place resembling. The mountains near would do quite nicely… she hoped. She spoke in a language far older than she could ever hope to be, “Pup of Fenrir! Follow!” The words were clumsy, for she had forgotten she even knew the tongue of the Vikings, but it felt right. Just as right as it did to beckon the beast.

Trauma had its way of catching up to you. Andy heard the screams– petrified, uncertain, and she ran. It was not her job to do so, the town had emergency response units for a reason, but as Leah had explained, could they be trusted? Could Andy be trusted to deal the final blow to something that was terrorizing the citizens of Wicked’s Rest? Could she be trusted to put her feelings aside and fall into line with who she had been raised to be? Certainly not. Not after she saw what had been causing the commotion.

It looked similar enough to a hellhound that Andy was almost certain that’s what it was, but instead of fire pooling from its unhinged jaws, it was a dusting of ice. The kind that melted as soon as it had been blown. She watched in mock horror as the creature bellowed once more, so obviously out of place. People stood around, their own expressions mirroring that of disbelief, horror, and fascination. Despite not being its fiery counterpart, Andy figured this was nothing to stall about, and so Andy immediately set into action, explaining to those standing entirely too close, to back the fuck up.

Some followed her advice, and others did not. A woman parallel to where she stood had taken it upon herself to speak in a language that Andy couldn’t identify, and instead of turning on its hind legs, another sheen of ice spattering from the back of its throat, it turned and followed. Andy stood mesmerized for a moment, knowing that it had seemingly been taken care of, but curiosity got the better of her and she followed. “Do you need help?” Andy asked, head pounding with the what if’s. She had been told by her mother that some kept hellhounds as pets, but this was no hellhound– or perhaps it was, only having been descended from an entirely different layer than what she had been told about.

There was a thought of parading the creature through an extra block of town. Come one, come all, feast your eyes upon the beastie! Fetch herself a nice bit of whispers in the process. But the exhaustion weighing down every bone made Honey as equally tired of the thought. No, the beast had its fill of the town. No, she shall parade the thing through the trees and have it running amongst the lands like it ought. Her own legs prepared to run—to become a prey to be chased. Soon, before its eyes drifted away to another. There was a release of pressure, a dash of a dash, before her feet stumbled at the question. She whipped around. Presence during such a situation wasn’t surprising—either frozen in fear or curiosity. But in generosity? That was not so common. The woman must be one of the mist, beyond the comprehension of modern society. Yes, Honey was certain of it.

“Aye. Make lotsa noise.” Honey said without a thought. As if a ghost had possessed her only to offer that nice piece of advice. One it felt no need to elaborate. Make noise. Why? The beast… hated noise. Liked noise? Perhaps something else entirely. Well, she was about to find out. Her whistle was sharper than a nail taking its time down a board. Not that it needed to, the beast’s eyes were on her the moment it left her lips. Ah, so noise was liked. “C’mon, c’mon, nippy skippy!” Her dash was finally realized as she launched herself past the trees. “To the Peaks! He’ll much like the Peaks.”

Make lotsa noise.

Andy blinked at the request, not quite sure that the woman had meant what she said, or if she were being fantastical. And then, like a caged animal finally let free, she was dashing towards the copse of trees. She disappeared, and the hellhound did, too. The peaks? Andy wasn’t sure why she followed. Maybe she could have considered the woman running away from her as a means to turn around, but Andy’s curiosity got the better of her.

The woman was fast, and the hellhound even faster. Andy was glad the trail was flat (at least for now), for the sake of the non-hiking boots she wore. She followed closely after the woman, not quite sure what their end goal was. Had the woman planned to take the hellhound all the way up to the icy peaks from where it came? It was possible, but Andy knew there were other things there, too, and she had no coat. Wasn’t this lady afraid of freezing to death? “Are we taking it all the way up?” Andy’s voice laid even, despite the speed she maintained.

Ignoring the fact the beast sought after her in the pursuit of food, Honey felt her feet and its hooves beat to the same drum. A beat so welcoming that it added another to their band of misfits. She was delighted to see the woman’s helpful hands were not just some show of politefulness. “Aye! Tooooooo the top!” That cry was punctuated with a cackle just as striking—beating upon the hound’s ears to keep up. If it were not for the summer’s heat, the thing would have surely already caught up to her. But the sun rays turned to shackles on the beast’s feet. Luckily, her voice and the supple flesh it promised was a stronger coil around the creature, pulling it ever forward.

Honey’s legs beat the same as her voice as the three made their way through the summer’s growth. As the town drifted behind the growing wall of trees, and with it any others who could hope to distract the beast, she was confident its attention was fully secured. She felt familiar with the beast, after all. But the woman? Not a thing. In the moments between, from the then and the peaks, she wanted to know more. “Name’s Honey!” She nearly offered a hand, but the distance wasn’t right. Nor the situation, really, not that she cared. “What has a lass like yerself out helpin’ the Fenrir’s pup on such a bonnie day? For me, the poor thing just looked right-” While summer’s heat was a fierce fighter, there were other ways for the hound to catch up. As if the Earth had flipped backwards, the world suddenly turned to winter. Well, on Honey’s right, at least. In a blink, the beast’s icy breath had a few saplings snap under their own weight… and Honey’s arm turned to a meat popsicle. It was all so cold it even had her trembling—how fun!

“Ohhh, he’s awakin’!” Enough for another try at changing the seasons, it seemed. The air around its maw swarmed with a growing fog. Honey’s delight relented to worry as she remembered the other beside her. “Trees,” she barked. She rushed behind a rather large one for cover.

Andy shouldn’t have followed, and she knew that. But she wanted to ensure the safety of a creature too dumb to notice it wasn’t where it belonged. Then again, it could have been brought down from the peak for another purpose; something more heinous. She didn’t know the woman she followed, or the intentions she had, but Andy had to believe that there was something kind in her heart to allow the hellhound to follow after her as if she were a chicken on the run. Using herself as bait wasn’t entirely a foreign concept to Andy, she’d done it before, but she was a little glad she was the one running behind; the burn in her chest a reminder to keep up.

Name’s Honey!

Andy struggled to do anything other than breathe hers out, chest laboring to keep from swallowing them whole as she shot back, “Andy!” She could feel the chill in the air now, the way it buried itself beneath her skin. With every exhale, her breath drifted in a quick cloud above her head– again and again. “Didn’t feel right leaving it alone, but you–” Had it covered, she would have finished.

Instead, Honey ducked for cover, a warning call splitting between them like the needles of winter biting at exposed skin. Andy didn’t need to be told twice. She immediately took to a tree adjacent to Honey, glad to at least have been able to stop. Her chest heaved with the sudden stillness, but she fought the urge to find comfort with her hands on her knees and a curved back. Instead, she pressed herself against the trunk of a tree and grit her teeth.

Surprised wouldn’t be the correct word. While Honey did look to the frozen air with a sense of awe, and its suddenance had her tensed, this was all expected. If a mouse were to release a cat from a cage, there would be no gratefulness but a hungry stomach with a way to ease. The hound looked to its saviors the same, remembering it had within it the might of a predator. But the same could be said for Honey. Though it was not yet the time to show those true colors. Her fangs remained strapped to her thigh, those dirks laying in wait, for she still wished to help. A help the beast still needed. The ice that rushed out its lips was magnificent… before it studdered with prematurity. Even its ending came too soon—interrupted by an equally impressive display of coughs that had its legs trembling in tempo. All kin to her companion beside her, whose knees buckled under a different weight. The smile on Honey’s face faltered at the sight. It seemed there were two in need of help.

The hound wanted some food, huh? Well, Honey could spare some. Her dirk finally rose to the occasion. But instead of the beast, its target was herself. While the mind was willing, the flesh was not. The ice had her muscles closer to bone. In perseverance and sawing, she managed a sizable gap. She smashed her hand against the tree’s trunk until there was a crack. That gap turned to severance—snap! Her hand popped off. With the hand that remained, she threw it flying through the air. That returned the hound’s previous vigor as it chased after the easy meal. In the same moment, she turned to Andy. “Gie ye a chance to go run off to home. Go!”

Andy heaved another breath, the icy air only making it harder to breathe than easier. It felt like she was swallowing pins. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on a way to steady herself, but the sounds that Honey was making from behind her own tree made Andy open her eyes. She stared in awe as the woman began to– cut off her hand? Andy stared at the woman, not quite sure that she should believe what she was seeing. But then she remembered who she was, and what she had been taught. She remembered Wicked’s Rest, and the rest of the world and how there were things beyond her own comprehension. Before she could even think to speak, Honey’s hand was flying through the air. The hellhound chased after it, its hind legs kicking up a spray of snow and ice as it ran after its meal.

Her own stomach twisted as she realized what she had just witnessed. So maybe that was why Honey had no problem running for so long, and in the cold temperature. Andy looked at where Honey’s hand had been. There was no blood. Instead, where there was sinew and bone, flesh began to slowly form around it. The only information Andy had on the undead was when it collided with that in her own wheelhouse. She had learned from slayers at the hunting camps about what their own victims (because that’s what they were) were capable of. But Andy hadn’t ever met a zombie, or at least, she hadn’t been aware if she had. She looked up to meet Honey’s eyes as she began to speak. “What about you?” What if the hellhound came back? Would Honey be able to fight it off without her other hand? Even if it was growing back at an alarming rate, Andy wasn’t sure she liked the idea of leaving her behind, even if her own discomfort was readily apparent by the sting in the soles of her feet and the burn in her chest. “I don’t–” Understand, Andy wanted to say. She wanted to be respectful, and even though she was a little weirded out by her first zombie sighting, Andy knew Honey meant her no harm, if it hadn’t already been obvious. Andy was grateful that she’d been the one to accompany her on this misadventure. “Do you– your hand, do you need he– anything?” She still wasn’t bleeding. Zombie’s didn’t bleed. Andy wracked her brain for the information she had on the undead, and on zombies specifically, but her mind was racing and she couldn’t recall those conversations from when she’d been a kid.

Honey quickly realized her insistence was lost to the supposed novelty of her hand. Ah, still a bit new to all this, eh? The look on Andy’s face, when found on others, usually had Honey chuckling. Oh, how it amused her to see the humans shit themselves over something so trivial. But when such a wide-eye stare was paired with the youth on Andy’s face… Honey wasn’t sure what to feel. Well, she did—oh how she did—but she didn’t want to bother with that again. So, she returned that stare, one as blank as she felt. That is, until she noted the concern in Andy’s voice. Concern? Huh, how sweet. With that change in origin, she found Andy’s high nerves to be endearing. She let go of the tension she did know had claimed her, and with its absence her smile returned. “Oh, no a worry, lass. Got more a’ me arm to offer the nippy skippy. Not much a’ damn use as is, anyhow.” It probably would be better to cut the whole thing off. Her flesh would surely return before the ice even thought to thaw. Return… Andy was probably too fresh to share in the knowledge. “Oh, it all returns. Be fine in a-” she winked “-wink.”

While Honey’s hand return was not as swift as her hyperbole, its eradication was. A few eager snaps and cracks from the hound’s jaw had the whole thing gone. A disappointing impermanence that left the beast yearning for more. As if it already gnawed upon her, Honey could feel its hungry eyes. A look she echoed but not yet fully mirrored. The whisper of her cravings curled up her spine, but not yet to her mouth. Instead, it barked out, “Come get more tasties!” Once more, that promise was flung into the air: follow me for food! And the beast followed her once more, unaware that the true promise was to take it home.

Honey looked amused by her confusion and Andy’s already flushed cheeks burned with embarrassment. She didn’t want to recoil, and the only reason she would is because of the memories brought on by a flying limb. But this was different. Had to be, for their current circumstances. She blinked at Honey as the woman began to reassure her, explaining that the arm would surely return, and in real time, Andy watched as it did. Her stomach twisted again and she fought off the urge to look away. Would that be rude? Probably.

The hellhound devoured Honey’s arm with a ferocity that Andy had seen before– this was not something new to her; the hunger. She winced slightly, forcing her mind to wander from those moments in the woods, or of Alex’s own cracking limbs during her first full moon. Before Andy could ask for clarification on how long it would take for her to fully repair, Honey was taking off, a dusting of snow kicking up behind her. Andy urged herself forward, not quite fast enough, but trying to keep up with Honey all the same. To leave now might be a disservice, even if it might be stupid to follow a woman she didn’t know into a snowstorm.

#homeward hound #thread #thread : andy #ft. andy b.#memory loss tw

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