Entanglement

[Flamebird]

Zrazire's Prime Cuts.

They stepped into the butcher’s shop. Their footsteps, which had been patterning against aged stone, suddenly hit smooth marble instead. The floor was stained with the blood of slain animals, trickling all around. The strong, foul smell of it was accompanied by the disgusting sound of knives tearing through meat, the carcasses being torn apart. Felicity remembered a time when she was grossed out by this sort of thing – now, however, she was completely desensitized. The walled up room was hot from the fires; smoke clouded the air. The luggage burdened girl had to stop and cough, thus announcing the duet’s presence.

A young man came forth to greet them. He seemed… near human. Well, actually, the scales on his skin, bald head, and reptilian eyes set him apart. Clearly, he was a drakari – and the lowest member of his caste. He was hunkered over, yet smiling. “Welcome to Zrazire's! How may we serve you?”

From the back, in another room, a hostile shouting briefly pushed Felicity into guard – she had been in the wilderness for weeks after all. It was not just the acquaintanceship with the wilds that caused her heart to pound, however. In the back of her mind, she was reminded of a distant past. As Felicity squinted in the smoke corroded room, Yvonne had set down her cat and started talking to the meek butcher. Felicity heard the sounds more clearly as her senses adjusted to the hearth.

“Who has the claws around here? Me! Not you. You hunt the beasts! I butcher them."

Despite the heat, goosebumps popped up on her back. Eyes widened, body stiffened. Her scaly hand pressed against a wooden table. Her snow pale skin was almost green. The smell of blood, the taste of it, only made her situation work. Her post traumatic stress disorder was caused by her second traumatic experience in life. Second. Now, her first trauma was dancing in her head as well. This… this was why she focused on the external world. To escape her inner haides. Her fingers dug into the table, pulling up scraps of wood.

She had had enough. She was about to join Yvonne in her negotiations, whatever they were, but a voice thunder cracked from a back door. Another drakari stepped in, sporting scales and sharper features head to toe. This was a member of the Claw Caste. His slitted brimstone eyes glowed in searing rage. “You are costing us business, impure blood!”

The employee shrunk in place, pulling himself into a self preserving hug. Zrazire did not yield in his merciless verbal strikes. Insults, accusations, and blatant racism erupted from his sharp toothed jaws. Never was the lesser drakari called by name, he was called… “it.”

And “it” was losing the butcher’s shop business. Apparently.

An internal chord snapped.

Without warning, the girl raised her fist. She brought it down to the table. It broke upon impact. She was vibrating, violently. She might as well have been having a controlled seizure. Her face was crimson shaded. Her eyes were quenched shut. This man may have been angry, but she was ten times worse.

There was a monster beneath that peppy teenage girl.

The monster had come out.