• Conscious memories flitted through Asmara's mind's eye. One of them stuck out like a sore thumb, stirring an unconscious fear from within her. It was a tale based on a true story, told so many times to her in her childhood that she could recite it word by word. It was about an elf boy that was stupid enough to trod into uncharted dark angel territory alone. He was brutally attacked, with multiple bite wounds all over his body and to make it more enjoyable they let him live so that he could go through the horrible changes of becoming a dark angels' minion.
    The boy’s blood had reacted badly to the venom and he started to convulse and it felt like his insides were being cut up by a thousand knives. He screamed out in agony, but the demons just laughed cruelly as he withered to nothing. It had taken hours but it felt like years. His very blood was poison to him now and his nervous system turned against itself, attacking his organs. He had died an horrible death. But it was said that the dark angels, in their pride, they decided to keep their blood ties in their race as not to cross breed and contaminate their kin.
    She peaked an eye up at Ezekiel, who was still holding her waiting for the indescribable spasms to start. Glistening tears tugged at his droopy eyelids. His eyes were still topaz. He seemed to have sensed her thoughts. She instinctively reached up to touch her wound. It was sticky with slimy green ooze and bandaged tight with thick vines. He must have bandaged her while she was in the deep access of her mind.
    “You are not going to die.” He said under his breath.
    Asmara looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear. “Am I going to change into a dark angel?”
    He put his hand under her chin and caressed her cheek with his thumb, rubbing at the smudged dirt. “No. You can’t.”
    She staggered back in confusion and fear. His hand fell from her face and swung limply to his side, his hand clenching into a fist. He watched her with guarded eyes but didn’t make any moves to approach her.
    He smiled encouragingly. “You can’t turn into a dark angel unless you exchange blood with me and even then I don’t think you would really change. Besides, you never really did drink my blood. So you are safe.”
    Asmara stammered, taking another step back. “But, but the story says – the story says that the boy reacted to the venom and died.”
    Ezekiel shook his head. “They probably forced his to drink their blood. The venom itself doesn’t kill our prey, our blood does. It’s toxic to anyone and everyone but us. Our venom just paralyzes the prey so that we can eat them. The venom is painful though, I know that much.” She looked at him confused. “At our academy, we study our body’s systems to better understand ourselves and to better hunt.”
    She looked at him in disgust. “You use test animals don’t you?”
    He regarded her silently with a blank expression on his face, making her want to scream.
    “Yes” He said.
    She choked and stepped away from him coughing, trying not to loose her lunch. She turned away from him and stumbled. He quickly stepped forward and forced her gently to the ground in a sitting position.
    “We can talk of this later. Right now you need rest.”
    Asmara nodded, rubbing at the rough bandage twined around her neck. She was so exhausted.
    “But don’t think that I forgive you so easily.” She warned him before quickly slipping into sleep.

    * * *

    Ezekiel adjusted Asmara onto his back grunting at her weight. He hadn’t realized how tired he really was until now. Her weight normally wouldn’t have bothered him. He walked back to camp too tired to stretch his wings for flight.
    When they got back to their camp the fire had climbed higher, its orange flames licking at the low drooping moss of an unfortunate tree. He lay Asmara down gently and went to tend the fire. He made sure it had died reasonably low before sitting down to turn in for the night. He lay down on the flat of his back looking up at the stars waving down at his with twinkling arms. The deep set blue of the night sky always calmed him.
    The singed moss from the climbing fire sank closer to the ground, brushing his elbow, making it itch. He swatted it away absentmindedly, catching it in the fire. It hissed and a trail of smoke snaked, rising to the sky. He wondered at the fungi, taking it up in his hands. He ran it mechanically over the flickering flame, setting it to cook. Once he was satisfied, he gathered leaves as a suitable plate and placed the moss on them to guard it from the dirt. Happy with his work he curled up by the fire and fell asleep.

    * * *

    Asmara woke up to the smell of something delicious. She was tired regardless the sleep she had gotten, after all she was recovering from a fatal wound and yet she was yet to eat and was famished. She scanned the area for the smell and found it. There on a plate of leaves was a long coil of smoked moss. Her mouth watered and she looked up to thank Ezekiel but he was fast asleep.
    She walked over to him slowly as not to disturb him, and studied his restful face. His black hair framing his face was damp with sweat. His wings were neatly folded underneath him and his chest rose and fell rhythmically in his deep sleep. She smiled and turned back to his face. It looked peaceful. She kneeled in front of him, watching him in wonder. He smiled in his sleep and turned over.
    Her breath caught in her throat and she blushed, turning back to her smoked meal. She stuck a piece in her mouth savoring its flavor. Her mouth watered and she tore off another chunk. Another minute and she had devoured the whole coil of moss. She licked her fingers and stared into the fire, her dirtied face reflecting in the golden glow.
    Her mouth seemed dry and she felt parched. The water in the snake of green moss helped, but her body quivered in exhaustion and thirst, had a mind of it’s own. She stumbled through the spruce trees in search of water.
    She felt like she had stumbled on for hours until finally she heard the burbling of a small brook. She sighed in relief and walked faster toward the sound. A scream escaped her lips.
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