Roar, Lioness. Roar

The Mouse Who Knows Too Much

Verlaine paces back and forth.

"Did you see the way that little thing took out Red Anya?" Rebel asks as she sharpens a knife. "It was glorious. I think I finally see what you like in this girl."

"You just want her to try that move on you," Latisha chuckles.

"I think I can beat it... and if I can't, I guess we'll have to wrestle."

"You should have killed her a year ago." Verlaine points a bandaged finger at Latisha's chest. "You should kill her now."

Latisha studies her cats, her women. They are both jealous and expressing it in their own unique ways.

"I had no idea The Lioness made her a wildcat," Rebel says, tapping her chin with the flat of her knife. "I know hunters who've spent their entire lives trying to earn their mark."

"I didn't know either..."

Verliane studies her with narrowed eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Jealousy is making you simple, no?"

"I'm not jealous." Verlaine goes over to the rifles laying across a workbench and begins to inspect her own.

Latisha rises and walks towards the tent exit. "Are you sure?" she asks as she exits. She walks over to the next tent where the valkyrie, May, struggles against a chained collar, spiked to the ground. The links rattle loudly until she catches sight of Latisha. Her gaze is hostile, murderous. A reaver's gaze.

"You've seen more than any outsider has the right to. Many think I should kill you for that alone." Latisha sighs. "But Akiva would be very angry with me, yes? She's fond of you. Are you fond of her?"

May stares, bruised hands holding the heavy chain links. Rebel had chosen well, they'd take the fight out of the redhead long before she'd ever get free. Latisha comes around and leans down so May doesn't have to strain her neck. Still nothing.

"If you are a feral waster who can't be talked to, then there is no reason to let you continue breathing."

"Just kill me and get it over with," May spits.

"She speaks. I can't kill you yet. You belong to a wildcat. They are our best, like hunters and pack rolled into one. Our Akiva is quite special."

"She isn't our anything," May growls.

Latisha lets the amusement spread across her face. The chains sing as May lunges forward, nearly choking herself in her need to lash out.

"I can see why she likes you. You're feisty."

The tent flap opens and a girl enters carrying a bowl of violet slime. The Yellow Sun call it God Puke. She brings the bowl over and Latisha carefully takes a little of the substance between her fingers. It's texture is like honey and its smell burns the nose like alcohol.

"This is Noftee. She is going to clean you up and make sure you don't spread the infection." Latisha gestures for the girl to get started and May makes to kick the bowl from her hands. "It's what you daughters of Phalanx call Mother's Milk. If you waste it, we'll have no choice but to kill you for our own safety."

Noftee lowers the bowl so May can see.

"Don't fucking touch me."

"I thought you and Noftee would get along. You hate to talk and she can't." Latisha laughs. "Show her your tongue, Noftee."

The girl glances back at Latisha, but does as she's told. May recoils, appropriately unsettled.

"You people are so barbaric," May says as her shoulders slump. "She's just a child."