Who: Ilinca & Ivarr What: Feeding for daaaays When: November 4th Where: Cirque grounds Warnings: Murder, at the least. Anything else depends on who responds.
Ilinca was loving the Wild Hunt. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been so well fed, or allowed to stretch her wings and just fly about as she pleased. She'd spent the last day or so dressed in a simple white gown, her dark hair left loose and becoming tangled. She couldn't find it in herself to care very much. So many men, so much prey. Like letting pens full of sheep in amongst the lions. Ilinca had had at least six, and she didn't plan on stopping.
It was easy, it was always so easy. Luring one of them away from his group was child's play, playing the lost, scared girl who just wanted to go home. He ventured over to help her, and then her arms were around his neck. "Pretty thing," she murmured in his ear. "Pretty thing, come dance with me." He struggled, because of course he did. He could feel in his bones that something wasn't right. But she was stronger than him, however small she might look, and she dragged him into the trees.
It never failed to raise her heart rate, watching them succumb to her. No matter how they tried to fight, they all surrendered in the end. Watching the light leave their eyes, knowing that that light would soon be within her. It was the best feeling in the world.