Mara - The Lady Grief (Completed)

39 Perfection in the Flesh

2650 B.C.E., The Mountains North of Tmari-on-the-Euphrates

Winter, Month of Shabatu, One Year and Eleven Months after Mara's Rebirth

Thane

I take down three goats easily, quick to cut off their noisy bleats of fear before they have time to alert anyone. They are thick, healthy, with deep winter coats hiding stores of fat for the hard months. Perfect to sustain our little group for a day or two.

I silently offer thanks to the mother goddess. No sense in angering more of the gods. She must be suffering, watching her children die and flee by the hundreds.

Standing, I hold the goats by the hooves and sling them over my shoulders, the largest spanning over my back. I make sure to hold them so that the blood drips from their necks down my back and arms, soaking my scales instead of the ground. I'll skin them and bleed them here, to try and keep the trail back to our cave to a minimum. But, honestly, if we're followed by a predator... who cares? One of the Basru is more than enough to take out every sort of predator in the above. Still, with the females and the elders, I don't want to take unnecessary risks.

The smallest goat is drained first and I start the process of skinning him up. My blades and claws make short work of the thick fur coat. I set it aside. More furs are always useful.

Socks has joined me this morning, his orange eyes glowing bright with curiosity as he pokes at the dead goats and smooths the fur with a wistful expression on his face.

"It's better to be made of stone," I tell him.

He looks at me, his ears curling over as he shakes his head sadly.

"Mara likes hard things," I tell him. After the words leave my mouth I realize what it sounds like I'm suggesting.

Socks looks at me, in shock, orange eyes round and ears perked up. Then, he loses his composure, doubled over as the grating noise of gargoyle laughter shakes his little body.

"Hush, Socks. We're trying to be quiet," I grin myself. Blood everywhere, a chortling gargoyle who farts audibly whenever he stifles his laughter, we're not blending with the mountains at all. So much for the Underworld training. In the above, things, as my Lady says, get... messy.

Socks gets over his envy of the goat fur quick enough, prancing around and waving his hands in the air to music only he can hear. Strange little beast.

I'm halfway through the second goat when I hear the faint sound of snarls. My demon is alert, our eyes shifting to focus on the path back to the cave.

Socks hisses, spikes sprouting along his spine.

Our feet fly over the ground. Our ladies are in trouble.

---

Mara

"Good morning, Lier," I greet the dark male with a smile.

"Princess," he nods in my direction, but his dark eyes never stop roving the distance, moving, constant movement of just his eyes as he seeks out any enemies in the mountains. "Stay close, my Lady."

"I just wanted to see the dawn," I respond. I tilt my head back, letting the cool air wash over my face. I've cried so much this past night that my eyes are tight and scratchy.

I inhale softly. "Where is Thane?" I murmur.

"Hunting," comes the quiet reply.

Mishu and Mushu emerge from the cave, rubbing their eyes. Mishu steps on Mushu's tail and they both start arguing, then slapping at each other.