by highawaywoman » Tue Jan 05, 2016 3:19 pm
Green eyes met a paler shade of green as Phor looked her squarely in the face. "I'm better now." The brigand had never been much of a gambler. The yearn to roll the bones had skipped her - not that she didn't have her own costly vices. However, that didn't mean that she didn't have a good sense for 'tells'. In fact, it was that sense that kept her alive long enough to pass thirty summers and a few more after.
"Good. Glad 'o 'ear i'. Bu', if'n ye feel the need? Ye mustnae suppress i', or hoide i' froom me or Gloria." Rats had worked in the past, but it barely scratched the surface of Phor's need. The thirst. Drink was Ailova's first demon, the strongest among the score she'd collected. Phor's thirst had been for murder, blood, pain. It was as easily sated with blood as Ailova's was with a bottle. The bandit knew how impossible it was for her to set aside her bottle - it had to be equally hard for Phor.
Instead of pressing the matter, the highwaywoman rose from the lumpy straw mattress and gave the horned-girl a genuine smile.
"I'll coome visi' again sooon. Ye star' work in the mornin'. Till then, Phor."