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[Dealthagar]

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The elven brigand camp had entertained him for hours. After slaking his thirst on the first dozen or so that he came across, the remainder of the camp denizens became playthings, toys, to be broken. He laid back on the sofa, savoring the memory of the camp leader's tirade that alternated between crying, begging and hysterical screaming as he was vivisected. The windchimes Dealthagar had crafted from his bones tinkled merrily in the evening Umbran breeze.

He stared at the watercolor of the violet eyes that hung on the wall of his sitting room. it had taken him hours to perfect the tone and depth of the color. He had been taken with them. The fact they matched his own was a bit of novelty, but her half-elven blood could account for much of it. Still, it didn't take away from her beauty.

She had been a marvel to paint. Her heritage would have indicated softness, but that was far from the truth. Her pale skin covered a weapon, taut and hard. She was a predator, toned and muscled, ready to pounce at a moments notice. Gooseflesh raised as he imagined her hunting. Light on her toes, stalking, circling; her prey frozen with fear, it's fate never in doubt.

She said he intrigued her. Enough for her to venture close to Umbra. Enough for her to venture into the home of the Herald of Oblivion. Most people would have assumed it was a prelude to death, or at least incarceration for one with her history.

He smiled. Her scent still clung to the sofa. He had laid with his head in her lap, enjoying the closeness. He had warned her how forward he was, how he took liberties, how he was a beast. She could have forced him away, or gotten up, but to his delight, she played with his hair, and enjoyed the moment with him.

He hoped she was a curious type, and his hopes were fruitful. He understood the extacy of his gift. There was a reason he was drawn to the dead, and why they were drawn to him. It was delicious, comforting, sensual, personal...

And for all she felt, how could he you explain, how could she possibly understand or know, she was touching his very essence, his very soul.

...and that the "taste" went both ways...

An icy shivver ran down his spine. She was thinking of him. Was it because he was thinking of her? Could she feel his thoughts? His desires? It was fanciful to imagine, but that was not the way of Entropy. Oblivion wanted the universe devoured. It would happen, eventually. Why hasten destruction? It was better to enjoy the now.

To enjoy her.

He wanted to suck her in, to draw her to him, to taste her again.

His heart began to burn. The desire to hunt was upon him again. Blood and flesh would not be enough to feed his Beast.

The sun would set soon, and could leave his sanctum. The time to hunt her was at hand.
_________________

The Three Truths of Singularity
Do something to the best of your abilty or don't do it at all
Feel to the fullest of your ability, cutting yourself off from your emotions leads to spiritual death
Control your being, your existance, your destiny.
www.adriandrake.com

[Ceinwyn ab'Arawn]

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It was she who hunted him this time.

Few outside of their own kind would understand her motives. Eternity was such a vast thing to face, alone and bored with nothing to stimulate the senses. To watch the cycles of man repeat themselves over and over was painfully monotonous. So he was a welcome diversion, despite the threat to her existence that he might very well prove to be. He was, simply put, too intriguing to ignore.

And oh what wonder he had shown her. Who could look upon the expanse of serenity that he contained within and deny its seductive allure? The hidden font of warmth and the promise of eternal peace dwelling in what seemed to be every fiber of his being. He tasted of so many things; life, death, seduction, and fulfillment. It was a potent drug that pulled at the shattered remnants of her soul. She wanted to consume him and be consumed by him. It was such a novelty, unlike anything she had ever experienced, and the opposite of anything she would have ever expected from one of Oblivion's followers.

But he was no follower, and that intrigued her all the more. So much so that yes, she did follow him back to Umbra, back to that familiar corner of the Dark Facet. Normally, she would have been guarded against such behavior, but there was more to him than what lingered on his carefully sculpted exterior, and she felt herself burning to know more.