Feral

ii. ☾

TWO
b l o o d

"NOW tell me what you are doing here." The light manner in which the man spoken had vanished, and now there was silence.

Complete silence.

Their eyes burned into one another's, curiosity evident in both of their features.

Terribly frightened, Eleanor Atwood could have sworn she had seen fondness in the strange man's piercing, silver gaze just seconds ago. Now, it was nowhere to be found.

Her breath caught in her throat as he continued to stare at her agitatedly, though she wasn't sure what she'd done to cause it.

Eleanor hadn't meant any harm to him, or to anyone at all; she was absolutely dumbfounded.

He had came out of nowhere, it seemed.

She had gone apple picking as she normally did on nice days such as this one, but it was only now that she realized that she had taken the wrong pathway.

She felt like an idiot, getting into one mess after another.

Among this man's virtues, patience was nowhere to be found. His convulsing figure and flared nostrils were enough for Eleanor to remain paralyzed with fear.

What else could go wrong?

"Uh... I..." Eleanor blushed uncontrollably, looking away from the large, well-built man who seemed to have no problem with his nudity.

"Well? Speak up, girl." The man spoke, aggression rising.

Not knowing what else to do, Eleanor did what she always did upon being put in situations.

She ran, though she knew she was no match against him; she doubted anyone was, for that matter, but that fact wasn't enough to deter her from getting away.

"Don't run!"

The words, for some reason, only caused Eleanor to pump her short legs even faster, running and running until her foot caught on a branch, and she tumbled downwards.

Eleanor cried out at the sudden, harsh pain that ran through her body, and realized that she was bleeding.

Through her ragged, heaving breaths, she heard steps come up from behind her.

"You should've listened to me, girl. Now look. Your leg is bleeding out."

When he realized she wasn't planning on speaking, he did instead.

"You must love red." She heard a deep chuckle emanate from his throaty voice.

Eleanor's back stiffened as his presence washed over her.

"From your shawl, to your lipstick, all the way to the blood streaming down onto your ankles."

"The darker shades are the best, if you ask me..."

The man kneeled down beside her, staring straight at her before lowering his head.

He licked at Eleanor's wound, gentler than one would think. The sensation felt so light, leaving her wondering why it tickled through the course of her body.

She watched in astonishment as it healed seconds later, all signs of her earlier injury gone.

His eyes flashed a deep red, before returning to their original grey hue.

"Lucky for you, red is my favorite color."

.