creator_raven | (no subject)

(no subject)

They do not take the TARDIS this time, mostly because Ace is not the one that knows where they are going.

It is hot, though.

And dry.

The grass is tall and golden, the air smells of dirt and animal shit, and they can hear monkeys.

Or possibly it is baboons.

Raven thinks they are almost worse than the cousins.

Hopefully Ace will like it here?

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Raven follows, a tiny shadowed thing with feathers.

It is almost amazing, perhaps, that he can keep up.

He is, of course, not cheating at all.

There's a screaming noise abruptly cut off as Ace pounces, dragging the dik-dik down by it's hindquarters and snapping it's neck as it falls.

She doesn't even think (at least, she doesn't think much as a human) before kneeling and ripping into the dead dik-dik's jugular with her teeth, lapping up the warm, metallic blood as it pours out.

She'll be freaked out later.

Raven drops beside her, head tilting.

He still has a beak.

Then he attempts to steal the eyes.

They are small but tasty!

He remembers!

Ace looks up for a moment from her kill, all blood-stained and golden.

"Good hunting brother. There is food, here. Come ad eat." She rumbles in an odd, almost two-toned voice.

She'd be horrified about how far she's slid, if she were thinking about such things. Instead, she's eying the dik-dik's belly and wondering how one gets through all that fur without claws.

Raven catches her on the nose with his beak, and then his wing.

"Ace."

Beat.

"Possibly knives are handy, yes?"

Ace blinks at him in confusion, once, then steadies a bit. Right. Knives. She draws her handy little bootknife and flays the dead deer open from belly to throat, cracking the ribs along the way. The smell, rich and heady, catches her at the base of the brain and reminds her that she's very, very hungry.

The blade is buried in the dirt, and Ace worries contentedly at deer liver.

So very good.

Raven hits her with a wing again.

"Also fire? I am not so bad with that, I do not think."

Even though he likes raw meat.

Ace--

Sometimes she is strange.

"If you are wanting."

"I..." She rubs dripping blood off her chin, transferring it to already sticky hands. "I dunno."

His wings flutter.

It is not so much like a shrug.

"There is time, I am thinking. Also more deer."

"... Oh." She says, but doesn't move otherwise.

She's not entirely sure what he's getting at.

And the deer smells marvelous.

Raven waits, too.

Possibly he is also confused.

Or hungry.

Or both.

Ace is too hungry to deal with difficult questions. She goes back to munching on that tasty liver. If he wants to ask questions, he can wait until she's not starving.

Raven steals a little bit of intestine.

What?

It is good!

She grumbles at him, shortly, but she's too busy cracking open the ribs now to get at the heart to care much about the intestines.

Likely this is why Raven snatches more.

Also he is very hungry.

Eyeballs are still better.

Raven is full of shit.

Ace gets halfway through her tasty treat when she suddenly stops and looks down at the bit of heart in her hand.

She doesn't blur this time, getting to her feet in a clumsy and inelegant movement and staggering a few feet away before dropping again and retching.

Going down fast means the return will be fast too. And blood is nasty coming back up.

Raven pats her back carefully with his hand.

Sometimes wings are not so useful.

"It is not so much like geckos, perhaps?"

He is not so much sure what the problem is.

Likely.

"I. It's. I." Losing one's lunch does not lead to coherent conversation. Neither do fear and confusion.
She just knows she weating a deer raw, and only thinking about how good it tasted. That's wrong, right? That's bad.

She thinks it is bad.

Raven blinks again.

"Also it is tastier than bear fat, yes?"

He is very confused.

"Yes." It's out faster than she can stop it. "I mean, no! I shouldn't be huntin' like that, drinkin' it's blood... even if it was good..."

Ace is confused.

Also?

Still hungry.

Raven blinks again and flicks her forehead.

Carefully.

"There are other people that are fond of raw meat, yes?"

He tilts his head, watching her.

"Some of them are human. It is blue, yes?"

Raven is very bad at French.

Perhaps.

Ace snorts at him.

"Yeah. S'supposedly all fancy. But I' not supposed to, doncha see? Makes it easier t'slip, an' I can't."

Though.

Is there any of that liver left?

No. Bad thought. Bad bad thought. Stoppit, Ace.

Raven just looks at her, head tilted.

"It is not people. The taste is very different."

He feels this might be important?

"It's still bleedin'. It was still afraid. I could smell it."

And it smelled really good.

Raven shrugs.

"It is part of what you are. Also who."

He tilts his head, smile gone crooked.

"It is also not the only thing part, yes? So."

"How can I keep it from bein' the only part, though. It's addictive. Things are easy, like that. Too easy." Ace asks, and at least she's calmer.

Raven studies her, almost curious.

"Balance is not so much a knife edge, perhaps."

Not always.

"Hell no. S' a tightrope. The knife is the thing cuttin' it." Ace points out wryly.

Raven wrinkles his nose.

"Practice is also helpful."

It is how tightrope walkers do it, after all.

Is it not?

Ace wrinkles her nose back at him.

"Does that mean I have t'eat another one?"

Raven rolls his eyes, flicking her forehead again.

"Only if you are for wanting to. It is not, I think, so much a necessity."

Duh, Ace.

"I am still hungry." She admits, though the thought of fresh blood still turns her stomach.

Or is that make it rumble?

Ace is still confused.

Raven blinks.

"You are preferring geckos?"

He has pocketes--possibly there are some left.

Alternatively, there are still tiny deer wandering the grasslands.

Ace thinks about this, thoughtfully.

Then she tosses him her lighter.

"Make a campfire, birdie. I'm catchin' lunch."

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