Night Beasts

[Cookie Waterford]

It is said the only thing that separates man from beast was his ability to reason; that an animal's mind is purely reactionary, whereas man's was creative, even though it was often propelled by reaction as well. But what of the mind of those that were in-between? Philosophers of old wouldn't have bothered contemplating such a silly notion, but here she was, neither human nor beast, living as something in between and with a mind driven by reasoning, but a body honed by instinct. Carraig's misty, salty days were even cooler in the night, scents changing to that heavy damp smell of old trees, dark soil, salt, and stone. Cookie's blue eyes gave a soft golden glow, taking in every ounce of light granted to her by the moon and stars above, a shining blanket with no city lights for miles to detract from their brilliance. The moon in its last quarter, the MIlky Way shining above, Cookie could hardly stop to stare in wonder and enjoy them as she crouched low in the darkness, the forest thick and black around her.

It was sunset when she'd slipped out of the cozy inn she'd been staying at, for once leaving her trusted tape recorder behind. This was a silent affair; this was private, and not something she was keen on sharing with the world. She didn't mind the walk, further and further away from where she'd been as the forest grew dark and quiet around her. Cookie had no flashlight and no bag, nothing with her but her clothes, and those too she'd removed when she was finally far enough away; they just didn't fit the same on nights like this, and bloodstains were a bitch to scrub out of acid wash denim. They were folded and left on a rock to be retrieved later, knowing she'd smell her way back, the same as how she'd smell her way back to the inn. Nights like this frustrated the reporter to no end. For all her human reasoning, Cookie was sometimes quite powerless to instinct, driven by it and after all these years she'd come to accept this part of her that needed to hunt, kill, and feed in darkness.

Human form was a tiring mask to keep up, burning her energy and keeping her hungry. She'd learned how to keep it up regularly, but at home alone she had to let the mask drop and be herself. The human that was Krystal was long-gone, and the human people saw during the day was only a facade to keep them calm and get work done. Even while living with Grandmother Fong in the mountains, the old woman's ghost had taught her to accept that the fox in her needed to not be suppressed at all times in order to keep peace within herself. Naked save for her collar, Cookie prowled low through the night's mists that clung to the brush, sniffing deeply as she moved in silence. Rabbit. The tracks lay before her, clear as day with a scent so fresh she could nearly taste it. A big rabbit, too, from the size of his feet. Tracks led Cookie through the soft, damp earth of the forest floor, uncaring that she'd need a long bath whenever she made it back to her room. She'd been nearly unable to eat all day, the fox within her going wild from being pent up during her visit to Carraig, her sense of paranoia driving her mad as she hid in plain sight. Tonight, she'd feed, and hopefully that would sate the beast for the rest of the trip until she got back to Xing.

The rabbit's tracks moved around the bend and across a tiny spring so thin it could barely be considered as there save for the life that blossomed on its small banks in celebration, leading Cookie to a large huckleberry bush and her prize: a small den.Heeeeere Bugs, Bugs, Bugs..... The fragrant bush was thick and a perfect place to raise bunnies, sweet fruit all around them and soft dirt to tunnel through. She didn't smell any other rabbits, though; three, at most. Good. A whole warren meant they'd bugger deep into their little tunnels where she couldn't get to. Staying downwind, Cookie waited. They were close by the opening. Night was when owls and other night predators hunted, but day was when men hunted with their dogs. Under the safety of the bush, the rabbits would risk coming out, just a bit, just to nibble at some dinner. Whiskers. She saw long whiskers, and held her breath, the animal heart within her breast racing as her pupils dilated, zeroing in on her catch. A nose, and ears, and a head popped from the den's mouth, a second rabbit right next to him emerging as well.

Silence is something a lot of people associate with rabbits, along with docile, fluffy, starter pets, garden pests, and rotten things that chew through the power cords in the living room. Those are true, but nobody seems to give the rabbit enough credit as a fighter in its own right, and for the horrid noise they make when they scream. Their kick can break predators bones, and their bites can do nerve damage if they get you in the right places. Thankfully over the years, Cookie had learned to be pretty quick about grabbing them by the necks or their ears, digging in her fingers' claws enough to get a grip they couldn't free themselves from. A rabbit in either hand, Cookie maneuvered her fingers around the kicking and screaming dinners' throats to jab her claws in to break their necks quickly and bleed them out. The third rabbit ducked back into the den, Cookie dropping one of her kills to grab after it, snatching it by the scruff and lifting the rabbit upward. The rabbit was huge, bottom-heavy, and... sniff sniff a pregnant doe. The two dead bucks were hers, and slowly, Cookie put the terrified female down, unharmed save for a few scratches to the back of her neck, free to run away and find some new den to hide in, maybe long enough to birth and raise her bunnies. Two would do for now, and if she was still hungry Cookie would just see what else she could find in the blackened forest. Fur was ripped down and away in a few fast yanks, leaving warm flesh from a body whose heart had only just beat its last as fangs sank into its softness, Cookie feeding silently in the darkness.

[Roarke Moray]

There came a time when even the lowest or highest of creatures needed to hunt. Whether it be for food, shelter, a pretty girl, a handsome man... there were urges that couldn't be denied. To resist that urge was futile, as well as pointless. Or were those words one in the same? Roarke wasn't exactly sure, but the point remained that it was hunting time. The beast within was no longer pleased with hamburgers, cooked or raw. Or other food in general, sadly enough. The first time that Roarke had felt this urge, it had disgusted him. It had been some time since then, so the urge was nothing new. He also learned the hard way that the longer he suppressed it, the worse the beast could take over when the time came.

He waited until it was night and the moon, or what was left of it, had risen overheard. He chose to forgo wearing his cape, but kept on his pants, per usual. Just because he was hunting didn't mean he had to be indecent. He stalked out from his manor house and hit the open lawn hard, four paws pounding the ground. He took off at a run straight towards the forest that circled his home. He slowed as he reached the outskirts and giving his mane a resolute shake, he let the beast take over. His claws dug into the ground as he rose his nose in the hair, sniffing. He needed big game tonight; he was hungry. He smelled some deer on the other side of the forest and let out a growl of pleasure. It would be good hunting tonight.

He began his stalk through the forest very carefully... just because the deer were far away didn't mean those little jumpers would smell him coming and run for it. He was halfway to them when he smelled something on the air. Something new. It was fresh blood and... another predator. Roarke stopped where he was, taking deep breaths. He needed to figure it out. This predator didn't smell like any normal animal. The scent was faint but it wasn't entirely... well, whatever it was, it wasn't right for the forest. He wrinkled his nose, baring his teeth a little. He was still hungry, but damnit! He was curious. He would just have to hunt faster then. He began to stalk after his venison-dinner again, even as his path occasionally strayed to catch more smells of this new being. Full stomach first, then be nosey. Sound advice for any well-groomed monster.

[Cookie Waterford]

Even in the dark of the night, Cookie fould see how the blood stained the soft, almost downy fur between her fingers and around the pads that puffed coarsely over her palms and fingertips. It was there. Staining the softer fur and and her fingers, under her nails, and gathering in the cracks of the rough pads. Dark brown, almost black stained and spread against blonde that was almost white under the starlight and cover of the trees in the misty Creig forest. The blood stained Cookie's face, too, around the short, pointed muzzle that ended in rather sharp teeth. It still repulsed some part of Cookie deep inside, some glimmering echo that was the human ghost of Krystal. Some part of her distantly echoing like the waves that echoed inside of a conch shell, revolted as warm flesh ripped from limp bodies and was swallowed raw in large, hardly-chewed mouthfuls.

Other foxes were in the area hunting; Cookie could smell them near her as they followed the scent of warm blood. Picked free of external flesh, bones, sinew, and organs clinging together by thin fibers were tossed aside nearby into the path of the approaching skulk to share. Cookie didn't mind sharing, and they didn't seem to mind eating the guts as much as she did. She wasn't keen to waste anything, but sharing was another matter. A long tongue moved, freeing itself from her muzzle to lick the blood clean from her hands as Cookie knelt in the dark. She'd just had two rabbits' worth of meat, but wild rabbits were always so much smaller than the ones in grocery stores or the ones people kept as pets that somehow grew bigger than Cocker Spaniels. Wild rabbits were light and fast, their muscles very dense and lean and often made for very light eating. She let out a deep breath, surrendering to the fact that she was still hungry.

Hmm... Nights where she was still hungry were difficult nights. Going home before she was full couldn't usually be sated just by stopping at a burger drive through to top her off, and going to bed still hungry just meant she'd be miserable to be around in the morning, and if she wanted to see Prince Brendon again she needed to be as normal as possible. No, no. She needed something else to eat. Something small that would satisfy her. Maybe another rabbit, or a squirrel or two. Cookie had given up being disgusted by the things her body would scream and beg for in craving, just accepting that almost all small prey were fair game. Body low, the mists parted and swirld as Cookie crept through the forest, the fo in her trying to lead her underneath and through brush that she knew her body was too big to go through silently. Her path was making a large arc from where she'd been, sniffing carefully. The doe she'd let go had gone in the opposite direction, but maybe she'd find another den or a sleeping roost of bir--

The wind shifted slightly, taking a new scent to her. There was the damp soil and old forest, the smell of the night itself, and... and something bigger. Bigger than her, and it wasn't a deer, or bear. Guard hairs raised slightly down Cookie's neck and back as her ears pressed backward, her tail prickling slightly as she slowed her movements. It was bigger than her and she wasn't armed at all, no weapons brought with her on her flight to Carraig, and none borrowed to catch dinner tonight. She moved silently, aware, alert, and hunger muting down under the pulse of survival instincts. The breeze shifted again as her position changed, carrying her scent downwind, the smell of the larger beast no longer blowing toward her. She didn't know where he was, but also didn't care to ho stalking it. Dinner. She wanted to finish finding dinner and go back to the inn, have a long hot bath, and sleep in tomorrow. Cookie snuffed at the air again, picking up the smell of deer. Little bigger than she could take down on her own but maybe she'd get lucky an-- Cookie froze, light reflecting in her eyes to make a soft glow as her hackles raised, her body lowering. She could see the deer, yes, but downwind from her she could see something else. Something large, coming through the darkness toward the deer, and something that most likely smell her clear as day from her position. She held her breath, not daring to move closer to the deer that stood fifteen feet from her, or move away lest she draw any attention to herself. Tonight just got more interesting, and she really hoped that whatever it was wouldn't be interested in the slightest.

[Roarke Moray]

How dear it was to be hunting deer in the dear night with deer right before his very eyes. Roarke was close. The deer had yet to catch his scent, which was an added bonus. He scoured the herd carefully, even as his nose caught that strange scent again. It was a lot closer and definitely was prickling at his memory. But for the time being, it could wait. Roarke refused to hunt the doe or the baby deer. He did manage to see a gathering of bucks. More of a challenge due to the antlers and all, but it didn't make him feel quite as guilty afterward. Plus, there were least four of them. Time to go for it. He stalked from the treeline, purposely snapping a tree branch as he did so. He watched the doe and babies flee, while the bucks turned towards him. He kept himself hunched down so they didn't recognize his size. Some of them fled, but one huge buck did not seem scared. In fact, he shifted his head down and took off at a run towards Roarke. Roarke grinned and kept himself crouched down until the last possible second. Then he stood up and grabbed at the buck's antlers. His other claw went down and circled the buck's neck and he twisted both arms viciously. He heard a resounding crack and the buck went limp. He dropped it onto the ground and crouched beside it. He carefully closed the buck's eyes with a dainty claw and whispered, “Thank you.”

He felt the beast take over and submerged into it. He tore at the flesh of the buck, getting into the venison underneath. It was still warm and bloody and soooo messy. He would need to shower, which took forever. Oh well. He ate the meat in large bites, his nose constantly sniffing the air. The strange smell was still there. He looked casually around and noticed light shining off of a pair of eyes that were about thirty feet away from him. She, for he had determined that much, seemed predatory. Maybe she was hungry? WELL. Only one way to figure out just what or who was sneaking around his property. He tore of the back left leg of the buck, pleased to see that it was a well sized haunch. He then hefted it up and tossed over, when it landed unceremoniously about 10 feet from the pair of eyes in the trees. Let's see if she was daring enough to get it.

[Cookie Waterford]

Nature documentaries were always an interesting thing to watch, especially when one, in fact, at least half of soemthing that qualified for one, even if the process of becoming one wasn't natural in the slightest. Cookie had never been big on sciency stuff, but sometimes she'd watch the Animal Planet shows about things that lived in the ocean and how they lived and hunted, and sometimes she'd catch something interesting that wasn't marine-based. She'd never anticipated her life being like those shows, though, or moments like right now when her own human mind was something small on the back burner to her instincts. The deer were grazing nearby and not seeing her, thankfully, even though they were far too big for Cookie to hope to take down. That would be too much of a waste, too. But she wasn't there to watch the deer, and she'd been distracted from her need to find another something to snack on by her instinct telling her to stay perfectly still, hiding in plain sight as some thirty feet away a beast far larger than she was stalked those nimble deer between them.

He neared and the deer scattered all save for the buck who lowered his head, digging in a hoof defensively to charge, but instead of piercing the beast with his antlers, the buck's throat was slit and his neck snapped, the fight over before it had even had a chance to start. Cookie's breath held, unable to look away as the beast moved, tearing into his catch. Instinct screamed for her to continue to remain hidden, or try to run since he had his dinner and wouldn't be interested, but for soem reason the will to move was lost in translation. The sound of teeth sinking into flresh that so easily surrendered was almost sickening, Cookie unable to look away or fixate herself onto anything else. Maybe... if she took a teensy step backward, it wouldn't notice..?

He'd stopped mid-chew, and looked right at her. Ohhhh Hell's bells, he'd seen her. Vulpine heart racing in her ears like Xingese drums at the boat ceremonies, Cookie froze entirely, watching, and rather perplexed as he neatly tore the back leg of the buck clean off its body as though it were disjointing a chicken and tossed the leg to her. That.... was unexpected. The golden, luminescent sheen reflected the light from her eyes as Cookie looked down at the leg that lay in the grass about ten feet from her. That leg... smelled good, as much as she'd hate to admit to it under normal circumstances. Why had he done that, though? He had his prey, and given the size he probably could have eaten the whole deer without a second thought. She stared at the leg, scrutinizing it warily, torn between fear of what screamed as a trap, and being hungry. He continued eating, seeming to not care about the gift of flesh he'd willingly parted with. Maybe... maybe she could rush forward, grab the meat, and be fast enough to pull it away, and hopefully he wouldn't just jump up, pin her down, and pick his teeth with her.

Taking a deep breath, Cookie hesitated for almost ever before finally creeping forward in the smallest increments, her goal the leg, but her eyes only glancing to it here and there, almost afraid to break her gaze away from the beast as he fed. Eight feet. Six. Ears back, guard hairs raised, and thick tail fluffed and straight out, Cookie reached out a clawed hand, pale blonde fur seeming gray and white in the cover of darkness. Her whiskers twitched, the leg just out of her reach, air whisking in and out of her black nose quickly. The leg smelled delicious, large game a rare treat, but the smell of the beast lingered around the joint, which smelled... familiar. But food. Fast food. Meaning grab food and run like hell. Her hand grasped around the middle of the leg firmly, much, much closer to Roarke than she felt safe with as she crouched down low over the flesh. ".....Thank you."

[Shula Brighton]

{BUMP}

[Roarke Moray]

The beast within was quite literally in heaven. The deer was satisfying every craving he had for raw meat. The stalking had been pleasant and the chase wasn't so much as chase as it had been a quick fight. The next meal would probably have to be more of a chase to fully satisfy the beast but this would be good enough for the time being. He continued to tear into the flesh, eating casually now that he was alone. Well... mostly alone. He kept an eye on the eyes in the forest edge, seeing them move forward to reveal... well, something. It looked like it was a fox of sorts, but it seemed too big. She was edging slowly closer to the leg he had thrown and Roarke was careful to seem very focused on his meal. Not that it was all that difficult, of course. When the stomach grumbled, Roarke answered. She had finally reached the meat and was eying him warily still. Interesting that she had chosen to stay at the leg instead of grabbing for a hunk and running. A brave beasty, to be sure. He was content to start digging into his meal again when a noise caused his ears to perk up. “.....Thank you.” His head jerked up suddenly, a piece of meat hanging from his mouth in a most unladylike way. OKAY, SERIOUSLY. “Holy crap, you can talk!”

[Cookie Waterford]

The massive beast ahead of her could probably have gotten to Cookie in two good jumps, or sprinted at her in less time than she would have needed to run like hell or zip up a tree unless her tail had a warp engine hiding under all that fluff. But at the moment he seemed content enough to contineu gnoshing, disregarding her being so near as she stayed low, opening her jaws wide to rip at the first warm mouthful. Flesh squelched between sharp fangs, the blod of the stag mingling with the rabbit blood that already stained her pale muzzle, its scent mingling with that of the one who'd thrown the haunch at her. That smell. She'd smelled it before.

"Naofa cac, sibh canna caint!" Cookie ripped another mouthful, hackles raising slowly as her ears lowered, white tail bristling. That voice. She'd heard it before, too! And.. it spoke the musical, bouncy gibberish that was Creig, but it didn't quite have the same appeal as that Prince speaking. Blue eyes scrolled up, taking in more of Roarke than she had ten feet ago, his shape and features more clear even under the dark mask of the forest. It was that bodyguard! Slowly, her ears rolled forward, eyes locked on Roar. At least, she hoped that was him, unless he had an equally hairy brother, or Carraig really was home to mythical monsters in the woods the rest of the world forgot about.

The meat was swallowed down nearly whole, Cookie's body tense, ready to run like her tail was on fire if she needed to. "Um.... So, like... hi there. Nice night, ain't it?" Smooth talker that she was.

[Roarke Moray]

Roarke managed to close his mouth, taking the piece of hanging meat with it. He was casually chewing as he watched the fox-girl-who-could-freaking-talk muse over something or other. He had no idea what it was but she seemed confused? Or something. He had no idea. BUT THIS WAS WEIRD.

"Um.... So, like... hi there. Nice night, ain't it?" She was talking again. And suddenly recognition hit him like a bolt of lightning. THE REPORTER FROM THE GAMES! The one who got all snuggly with the prince! Okay... well. He really wasn't sure if they got snuggly or not. But that was entirely besides the point! And doubly besides the point, she was a chimerae? WHAT THE EFFFFF WAS GOING ON HERE? HE KNEW SHE SMELLED FUNNY! He had smelled dog and he had been kind of right. She was more fox than dog, clearly. Roarke continued to eat as he mused over his new found knowledge. He wondered if she recognized him. Hah. That was a stupid question. She could almost bet she would have by now. He had talked after her and there wasn't many talking monsters in the world today. But... how best to approach it? Should he keep his distance so not to frighten her off? Or leap over and grab her, demanding that she acknowledge the fact that he had been right about her funny smell. The options were pretty much endless. But he really needed to make a decision.

He decided to kind of do a little bit of both. He rose, lifting up his meal. He walked the 10 feet towards Cookie, dropping the deer down on the ground. He then crouched back down in front of his dinner. “I knew you smelled funny. Liking your dinner... Cookie, right?”

[Cookie Waterford]

So of all the nights over the years Cookie had ever gone hunting, this was one of the stranger. Granted, it thankfully wasn't wayward hunters and farmers or people trying to link her to tabloid monsters, but Cookie never had company while eating like this. You know, because naked, furry, and eating raw animals was always something you brought a date for. The massive bodyguard was quiet, taking a few more massive bites as he seemed to mill things over, Cookie occasionally glancing up at him. The sizes of his bites.... God, they were massive. And so were his jaws and teeth. Even in the dark of the Creig forest, Cookie could see those fangs glinting. Curiosity wondered what exactly Roarke was; instinct morbidly wondered if she'd survive one solid bite from him, and then concluded that nope, she'd be post-toasty.

The sound of sudden movement caught her attention, ears swiveling to press back as Roake casually picked up the carcass of the stag, moved ten feet closer and plopped it back down. Even as he curled back over his kill to resume eating, Cookie's guardhairs rose straight up, tail and back fur bristling slightly. Okay. He was coming closer. That was totally fine, right? They were just two monsters out in the middle of the night eating, so no sense in keeping a massive distance, right? After all, he'd rushed up and sniffed her head before and she hadn't freaked out... out loud.... That last bite of meat went down hard, the fox nearly choking a bit. “I knew you smelled funny. Liking your dinner... Cookie, right?”

Okay body, hairs DOWN. It's, like, kinda rude. A nervous smile made its way upward, which always showed more sharp teeth than she'd have cared for. "Actually, yeah, thank you." Articulation at its finest. Just what you'd expect from a journalist that won awards for her work. "The rabbits here are smaller than they are in Xing. So, um..." Cookie fidgeted, pulling back another long strip of the deer's hide to get to the flesh. She'd been caught by a royal guard. Not just any royal guard, but the royal guard who happened to catch before that she wasn't quite as human as she looked, and the guard who happened to be guarding the Prince. Yeeeeah. Fucknuts. So much for another date and romp with Brendon. Fuckfuckfuuuuuuck. She took a big breath, looking decidedly uneasy which carried into her tone. "Yeah. This is kinda my real body, and you're, like, the second living person who has ever seen it. Like, ever ever..." Cookie really was hoping at this point that Roarke wouldn't be a tattle-tail, since not only her chances for another date but her career were on the line from her secrecy, but at the moment she was totally aware that all of that rested with the feeding beast in front of her. Massively uncool.

[Roarke Moray]

"Actually, yeah, thank you.The rabbits here are smaller than they are in Xing. So, um..." Roarke nodded his head thoughtfully... or at least as thoughtfully as he could while stuffing his face of raw venison. So she was from Xing? Oh. Yeah. That made sense. She did say she was writing for some Xingese magazine or something, right? Whatever. Point was that Xingese rabbits were BIG! Did that mean that all the game there was big? Because that could be a fun trip. Maybe he could convince Gavin he needed to visit Xing. Clearly, Roarke would go along as personal bodyguard extraordinaire. And if he happened to go hunting... well, that wouldn't be so bad!

Pulling himself from his hungry train of thought, he noticed that Cookie seemed kind of... well... weird. Like there was this huge problem! What exactly could be an issue right now? Just two furry people enjoying some bloody meat in the middle of the night. Not strange at all. "Yeah. This is kinda my real body, and you're, like, the second living person who has ever seen it. Like, ever ever..." So? WHY WAS THAT A PROBLEM? ...Oh. Roarke sighed into his venison. He suspected she didn't want this furry knowledge to get out. She had the luxury (or was it misfortune) to choose when to look beastly. Roarke was always like this... it wasn't a problem. But it must be for Cookie. Roarke finished off his piece of venison, noticing that he only had a few more solid bites before the carcass was mostly finished. He liked to leave bits on there for the scavengers. Circle of life or some crap like that.

Roarke finished those last few pieces before choosing to stand and stretch. He then grinned down at Cookie. “This is my real body and you're, like, the thousandth living person who has ever seen it. Like, ever ever... So as long as you don't spill my secret, I won't spill yours.”

[Cookie Waterford]

Gamey taste in wild animals was to be expected, but as Cookie wnet through the thick flesh of the hind quarter, there was a different taste that she couldn't put her finger on. Maybe it was the adrenaline that had pumped since the stag had charged Roarke, or maybe it was a sea air that seemed to cling to everything in Carraig, or maybe just that Cookie wasn't used to having big game as an option for dinner. But the unique flavour that penetrated every bite was beyond awesome. It was a nice treat, and though Cookie figured she might sleep all day tomorrow (and kinda hope Brendon didn't spontaneously show up for rock-climbing) it was worth it. The fox in her would be sated and recharged, and after a day of staying in her real shape and feeding like this the night before, she'd be able to finish her trip here in Carraig in a human shape without anyone catching on.

Well, anyone else. It was a rather odd turn of events that Carraig's special forces would have a chimera like Roarke in their midst. He couldn't change that shape, but maybe that was why? He was pretty intimidating for sure. A pang hit Cookie with mixed feelings. She knew why she was a chimera and how, but couldn't fathom that most people would voluntarily give up their bodies. It made Cookie wonder if Roarke was a rarity througha dn through, or if Carraig did changed him. But if they'd been the ones to change him, she doubted he'd so willingly serve the country. Then again, Carraig seemed to have a totally different vibe to it than Xing did, so maybe he really was serving by choice.

Finally Roarke swallowed down the last large mouthfuls of flesh and discarded the mangled and chewed carcass into the brush, moving his body to stretch in the happiness that a full belly brought. At last he stood, lowering slightly to look down on the reporter as she gulped down the last of her meal, preferring to be over-full than waste the gift of food. He was smiling, at least. Or, well, grinning. And deargodthoseteeth... “This is my real body and you're, like, the thousandth living person who has ever seen it. Like, ever ever... So as long as you don't spill my secret, I won't spill yours.” Cookie's ears slowly swiveled forward, smilng as she wiped her muzzle with the back of her arm, white and frosty blonde fur stained dark with blood, seeming as a dark gray in the shade of the night.

Cookie smiled more, standing up slowly, more than relieved. The massive body guard wasn't going to tattle-tail on her. A long tongue slipped out, still subconsciously grooming her face, knowing she'd have to scrub like hell once the blood had dried in her fur. Damn double coats. "Like, thanks Roarke. That's beyond awesome of you." The relief was evident in her voice as well, and there was a happiness that came with not just her full tummy, but also the idea that she might get another date before she left the island and Prince Brendon not find out that the fantastic date that wore him out was a huli jing. "And thanks again for sharing. That really was massively cool. Sometimes ground beef just isn't enough."

[Roarke Moray]

She was standing up and Roarke suddenly realized that if it wasn't for the fur and snout and... stuff... she'd be TOTALLY NAKED. NAAAAAAKKKKKKEEEEEDDDDD!!!! So in a twisted, round-about kind of way, Roarke was oogling his first naked chick! SWEET. Mind you, the circumstances were kind of weird. And clearly she was a fox right now... heh, literally! No, seriously though. Of all the random people Roarke had met who turned out to be chimera, it was cool that it was a pretty girl.

"Like, thanks Roarke. That's beyond awesome of you." Roarke shrugged his shoulders with a grin. Who was he going to tell anyway? Well, besides the KING. ...Oh. Wait. The last time Roarke and Cookie had crossed paths, she had been interviewing the prissy Prince Brendon. And GETTING COZY. Oh, well. Crap. She was worried he'd tell BRENDON. Did she like him??? WHY WOULD SHE? ...Probably for many good reasons. Roarke didn't exactly know Brendon has a person, so he couldn't say that he was bad or not. But something about Brendon and how he acted around Gavin sat uneasily with Roarke. Besides... well, Brendon was human. And that was probably the most damning thing about him at this point. Roarke wasn't in love with Cookie or anything, but it'd be nice once for a girl to be attracted to him! And a human girl for that matter. He'd gotten a couple lady wolves come and check him out before. Awwwwkwaaaaaaardddd.

"And thanks again for sharing. That really was massively cool. Sometimes ground beef just isn't enough." Roarke nodded his head sagely. “For sure. Although, hamburgers are fucking delicious.” They seemed to be at an awkward moment now and Roarke was unsure how to proceed. He knew his usual post-hunt was spent cleaning up and then... well, doing whatever. Maybe he'd watch some TV tonight. But Cookie looked kind of, seriously messy. “Hm. Seeing as you are ON my property, I could kind of try and play host. Do you want to come and wash off the blood before you go home? It'll make it a lot easier to steal away.” Blood was hard to wash off and even harder to hide. Baths were a pretty good thing after getting blood all over your face, after all.

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