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The soul is not dark, but I’m never privy to the erratic natures of other beings. Clearly, there are many who would seek me out and judge me for my crimes, and they don’t all carry the darkness of old.
Crouching to my knees, I twist around, leaping toward my target, only to detect the sweet and bitter scent of Annette in mid-air.
But I’m far too late for correction. I knock her to the ground, near one of my bestial victims.
“Pleasant to see you, too, I suppose,” she says, grunting against my enormous weight.
Without hesitation, I lift myself off of her, extending a claw toward her for support.
She pushes herself up off the ground, refusing my hand.
“Your tone has certainly changed,” I growl. “What happened to condemning the infernal beast of the forest? Not here to vilify me again?”
She sighs. “Actually, I came to apologize.”
I stand at full attention, refusing to let myself be swayed by her appeal. I remember the words she reserved for me. Those feelings don’t simply dissolve after a good night’s sleep. To her, I’m an evil, wicked being, not fit for sympathy or mercy.
Though I’m beginning to enjoy her complicated nature, I’m not about to admit that her judgment of me is aggravating. I certainly won’t tell her that I want her approval or her permission, because the truth is that I don’t.
I am what I am. It’s no concern of mine if that horrifies her, even if it rattles something deep inside me when I think about it long enough. All I can do is not think about it and remind myself that this silly human’s opinion should mean nothing to me.
I cross my arms. “That’s interesting,” I say, unable to keep the smile from crossing my mouth.
She looks out at the line of animal corpses surrounding her. I can see her scrunching her nose, trying to keep from taking in the scent.
“Nice pile of corpses you have here,” she says, trying pointlessly to humor me.
It’s not as though I don’t enjoy her company. A part of me is glad to see her again. I just don’t always actively enjoy being hunted and scorned.
“Actually, it’s a sigil,” I say.
She purses her lips, moving around the animals. “Ah, I see,” she says. “Millen’s Third Purification Rites. Nice choice.”
I nod, unwilling to give praise to her seemingly endless knowledge of magical trivia.
“That’s… a lot of animals,” she says. “Do you eat them all?”
I smile. “My appetite is quite difficult to sate,” I reply. “Is there a problem with that?”
She chuckles nervously.
“No, I just worry you might wipe out the local animal population.”
“So why did you come to apologize?” I ask, not sure whether she was making a joke or a condemnation.
“Right.”
She looks out in the distance, away from the smell of rotting carcasses, before moving toward a tiphe log. I want to stay where I am, not be led toward a potential trap, before I realize that she couldn’t contain or weaken me if she tried.
“Not trying to trap me in another ring of sacred fire, are you?”
She seats herself on the log, and I stand tall above her.
“No.” She laughs. “I just thought I might get away from the smell if that’s okay.”
“I figured as much.”
“That’s actually why I came to apologize,” she finally replies. “I was a little quick to attack, possibly a little brash. And I’m sorry for that.”
