Mother of Midnight

Chapter 120 – Weird

“She will be fine after another night of rest. She’ll still be sore, but she should be on her feet,” Elira said, brushing her hands off on her coat.

Vivienne barely spared her a glance. She stood rigid, arms crossed, her expression unreadable save for the cold edge in her black eyes. “I see. Very good. Go help the others with packing up.”

Elira hesitated, just for a second. Kivvy caught it—the way she stiffened, the way her fingers twitched like she wanted to say something more. But she didn’t.

“Okay.”

She turned and walked away without another word.

Kivvy watched her go before looking back at Vivienne, who remained motionless, a dark silhouette against the morning haze. Even now, standing among them, she felt distant—like she was somewhere else entirely. And the worst part? Kivvy was actually starting to miss the old Vivienne.

Sure, she had been weird, and mean, and kind of terrifying, but at least she had felt like a person.

Now? Now she was just a machine, cold and efficient.

At least her mood got things done. The camp was packed up faster than usual, and before long, they were back on the road.

Vivienne had shifted into her massive wolf form to pull the wagon, her hulking shape cutting an imposing figure against the flat expanse of the steppes. Rava was curled up in the back, still too sore to sit properly, while Kivvy took the driver’s seat, gripping the reins. Not that they were necessary. Vivienne didn’t need guidance, and honestly, Kivvy wasn’t sure if she even felt the leather straps looped around her shoulders.

The air was thick with silence.

The others weren’t talking much either. Even Elira, who usually had something to say, was uncharacteristically quiet. Ivor kept his eyes on the road ahead, his expression unreadable, and Renzia—well, she was always quiet, but for the first time, Kivvy found the silence uncomfortable rather than just part of the background.

She shifted in her seat, tapping her fingers against the worn leather, and finally broke.

“Hey, Vivienne.”

No response.

Kivvy cleared her throat. “You okay?”

For a moment, she thought Vivienne was just going to ignore her entirely. But then, without turning her head, she finally spoke.

“I’m fine.”

Kivvy frowned. “You sure?”

Vivienne’s ears flicked slightly.

“I am always sure,” she said, voice as flat and heavy as stone.

Kivvy huffed, sinking deeper into her seat.

She really, really missed the old Vivienne.

For a while, the only sounds were the rhythmic creak of the wagon wheels and the steady thud of Vivienne’s paws against the dirt. The wind was sharp, cutting through Kivvy’s cloak, but that wasn’t what made her shiver.

She stared at Vivienne’s back—the massive, obsidian-furred form that had replaced the teasing, terrifying, alive woman she had come to know. She had always been intense, always a little frightening, but at least she felt real. Now, she felt like a statue. Cold. Distant.

Kivvy hesitated, then leaned forward slightly, gripping the reins tighter. “Vivienne.”

Silence.

“Vivienne,” she tried again.

A pause. Then, without turning her head, Vivienne rumbled, “What?”

Kivvy exhaled through her nose. “I get that you’re pissed off. But, uh… I dunno. Maybe you should talk to someone instead of just being a moody bitch about it?”

Vivienne’s ear flicked. For a long moment, she said nothing, just kept walking, her stride unbroken.

Then, to Kivvy’s surprise, she actually responded.

“There is nothing to discuss.”

“Yeah? ‘Cause it really seems like there is.”

Still, Vivienne didn’t look back. But Kivvy caught the way her tail twitched, the slight shift in her shoulders. Gotcha.

Kivvy leaned back, drumming her fingers on the reins. “You know, you used to be fun. Well. Kind of an asshole, but, like, in a fun way.”

Vivienne gave a soft huff that might have been a laugh—or maybe just a breath. “Perhaps I grew tired of amusing you.”

Kivvy smirked. “Nah. I don’t buy that. You love getting a rise out of people.”

No answer. But the silence felt… different now. Less like a wall. More like a door, slightly cracked open.

Kivvy hesitated before adding, quieter, “You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong. But don’t pretend nothing is.”

Another long silence.

Then, barely above the wind, Vivienne murmured, “Perhaps.”

Kivvy wasn’t sure if that was progress, but it was something. At least Vivienne hadn’t just shut her down entirely.

She let the silence hang for a bit, thinking. If pushing wasn’t going to get her anywhere, maybe something else would.

“…You know, if you’re trying to be all broody and mysterious, you’re doing a shit job of it.”

Vivienne’s ears flicked again. “Am I?”

“Yeah. If you wanna sell the whole ‘I’m too cold and dangerous to care’ thing, you gotta commit. Right now, you’re just acting like you’ve got a stick up your ass.”

That finally got Vivienne to turn her head slightly, her massive black eyes glinting. “Perhaps I do. Shall I ask you to remove it?”

Kivvy snorted. “Please. You’d break me in half.”

Vivienne made a low, amused sound before looking ahead again. A small victory.

Encouraged, Kivvy pressed on. “Seriously, though. If you need to talk, I’m here. Even if you just wanna vent or something. No judgment.”

Vivienne exhaled sharply, her breath curling in the cold air. “You would not understand.”

Kivvy rolled her eyes. “You’re not even giving me a chance. Try me.”

Vivienne was silent for a long moment. Then, finally—

“You smell delicious.”

Kivvy stiffened.

Not the response she was expecting.

Vivienne’s voice was calm—too calm. Like it was a simple fact, as neutral as commenting on the weather.

Kivvy swallowed, forcing herself to keep her tone light. “Uh. Thanks?”

Vivienne’s ears twitched, her black eyes still fixed on the path ahead. “I can hear your pulse. Feel the warmth of your blood, the way it moves beneath your skin.” A slow inhale. “It would be easy.”

Kivvy’s grip on the reins tightened. “Vivienne.”

Another breath. A little shiver ran through the great wolf’s shoulders, barely noticeable beneath the heavy fur.

Then, a slow exhale. “I am fine.”

Kivvy let out a nervous chuckle. “Yeah, not exactly convincing when you just said I smell like dinner.”

Vivienne’s tail flicked, but she didn’t respond.

Kivvy exhaled, loosening her grip. She wasn’t an idiot—she knew what Vivienne was. Knew that the whole friends aren’t food thing probably wasn’t as simple as just deciding one day not to eat people anymore.

And yeah, okay. The idea of Vivienne getting too hungry was slightly terrifying.

But still.

“You’ve got this,” Kivvy muttered.

Vivienne’s ear flicked back toward her.

Kivvy crossed her arms. “Look, if you were really gonna eat me, you wouldn’t have said anything. You would’ve just snapped me up before I noticed. So whatever this is? You’re fighting it. Which means you’ve got it under control.”

Vivienne was quiet for a long time. Then—

“…It is not control.” A long pause. “It is restraint.”

Kivvy frowned. “Same thing, isn’t it?”

Vivienne let out a low, humorless chuckle. “No. Control is effortless. This… is not.”

Kivvy chewed on the inside of her cheek. That was… fair, actually.

She thought for a moment, then reached into the pack beside her, rummaging around. After a few seconds, she pulled out a strip of dried meat and held it out. “Here.”

Vivienne finally turned her head slightly, her massive black eyes narrowing. “What.”

“Eat it.” Kivvy waved the meat at her. “If you’re hungry, then eat something.”

Vivienne exhaled sharply through her nose. “That is not—”

“What, it’s not fancy enough for you? You need, like, a roasted lamb on a silver platter or—”

“It’s not fresh. It would be tasteless and as nutritious as sawdust. It needs to be fresh. I need to feel the flesh beneath my claws, aether-rich blood dripping down my chin. It needs to be fresh and if possible, struggling.”

Kivvy’s stomach twisted, but she forced herself to keep her expression neutral. She knew Vivienne wasn’t normal, wasn’t just some big, scary woman with a bad attitude—she was a predator, through and through. There was no pretending otherwise.

But hearing it put so plainly—so casually—made her skin crawl all the same.

“You ever think about, I dunno, not describing things like that?” she asked, forcing a smirk. “Or is making people uncomfortable just part of the fun?”

Vivienne’s black eyes flicked toward her, then back to the road. “I am simply stating a fact.”

“Yeah, well, your facts make me wanna hurl.”

A beat of silence. Then—

“…I do not care.”

Kivvy exhaled through her nose. “Figures.”

For a while, neither of them spoke. The wagon creaked, the wind whispered through the grass, and in the distance, a chorus of insects hummed in the heat.

Then, after a long moment—

“Do you struggle, Kivvy?”

Kivvy blinked. “Huh?”

Vivienne didn’t look at her. “You said I should think about not making people uncomfortable. Do you hold back?”

Kivvy scoffed. “Obviously.”

“Why?”

Kivvy frowned. “Because that’s just what you do. You don’t go around saying every little awful thought that pops into your head. That’s how people work.”

Vivienne hummed. “Then why is it so hard for me?”

That gave Kivvy pause.

She looked at Vivienne again, at the way her shoulders were set—tense but controlled, like she was forcing herself to sit still. The way her claws twitched against the dirt with every step, the way her ears flicked with every tiny sound.

“…Because it’s not just a thought for you, is it?” Kivvy said. “It’s instinct.”

Vivienne didn’t answer.

Kivvy chewed on her lip. “But, like, you’re trying, right?”

Vivienne let out a low, rumbling hum, her claws flexing against the dirt. “Why would I?”

Kivvy frowned. “What do you mean, why?”

“Fear sustains me,” Vivienne said simply, as if stating the weather. “I do not need to eat you to gain something from you. Even the scent of fear, the rush of it in your veins, the way it changes the air around you—it is nourishing.”

Kivvy shivered despite herself, but Vivienne wasn’t done.

“And it is fun,” she continued, her voice taking on a lilt of amusement. “I love watching their reactions—your reactions. The way you try to keep your expression steady, the way your heart races despite yourself. The way some desperately try to hide it from me, as if I will not notice.” Her lips pulled back, revealing a sharp grin. “Oh, that makes it so much sweeter.”

Kivvy scowled. “You’re sick, you know that?”

Vivienne’s tail flicked. “I have been called worse.”

Kivvy crossed her arms, still watching her. “So that’s it, huh? You don’t even wanna try to be better?”

Vivienne slowed slightly, ears flicking back before she scoffed. “Better? Who decides what is better?”

“I don’t know, maybe the people who don’t get off on creeping their friends out?” Kivvy shot back.

Vivienne’s grin faltered. Just a little.

“…Friends,” she echoed, voice quiet.

Kivvy sighed, rubbing her face. “Yes, Vivienne. Friends. You do know what those are, right?”

Vivienne didn’t answer right away. When she finally did, her voice was unreadable.

“You are right.”

Kivvy blinked, certain she had misheard. “What?”

Vivienne didn’t look at her, eyes fixed ahead, ears flicking at some distant sound. Her gait remained steady, the wagon rolling smoothly behind her, but there was a new tension in the way her claws flexed against the ground.

“I should do better,” she repeated, slower this time. “For those I care about.”

Kivvy sat up straighter, studying her carefully. “Wait—so, you do care?”

Vivienne huffed, an exhale heavy with something unreadable. “You think I would tolerate your presence if I did not?”

Kivvy snorted. “Gee, thanks.”

Vivienne’s tail flicked, the movement quick and sharp, but her voice, though still carrying a weight of emotion, was more measured than before. “I do actually care what you think of me. Not as much as I once did, but this world would be boring if I didn’t find something to care about.”

Kivvy tilted her head, curious but trying not to show too much interest. “You seem to care about Rava a whole lot,” she said with a teasing smirk, poking at the truth, trying to get Vivienne to react.

Vivienne’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, her expression sharpening for a moment as if considering whether to respond at all. Then, with a flicker of something—maybe annoyance, maybe something else—she finally spoke. “She was the first person I met in this life, how could I not?”

Kivvy couldn’t say anything to that, and Vivienne went silent after that.