Mother of Midnight

Chapter 152 – Predator

“Are you sure we’re ready? Can’t we stay here where it’s… less cold, for a bit longer?” Kivvy groaned, wrapping her arms around herself as if the chill was already sinking into her bones. She stamped her feet for good measure, the metal tips of her boots clinking against the frozen ground.

“You already know the answer to that.” Rava grunted, hefting the last crate into the back of the wagon. Her breath came out in clouds, misting in the frigid air as she wiped her hands on her coat. Vivienne, hitched to the wagon in her large, obsidian-furred wolf form, stood quietly, her breath steady and controlled despite the visible tension in her stance.

“Fine. Fine,” Kivvy grumbled, pulling her cloak tighter around herself. She looked ready to protest further, but the words died in her throat as Vivienne turned her head sharply toward her, eyes gleaming like polished onyx.

“Oh, shut up. You’re much more prepared for the cold this time,” Vivienne said, her tone harsher than intended. Her voice had an unnatural resonance in her wolf form, deeper and layered, carrying an edge that made even Rava glance over in surprise.

Kivvy paled, her ears flattening against her head in a rare display of nervousness. “Sorry…” she mumbled, hopping quickly into the back of the wagon without further complaint.

A quiet scratching sound broke the tension as Renzia stepped forward, her canvas skin rustling with movement. She tilted her head slightly, the dull grey of her features catching the morning light in odd patterns.

“Hun-gry…” Renzia said, her voice halting and fragmented, each syllable clipped as if she had to force it out. She tapped her chest lightly, then pointed toward Vivienne. “Miss-tress… ne-eding fo-od. Rest… helps?”

Rava frowned, circling around to the front where Vivienne stood. “Are you okay, Viv?” she asked in a low voice, concern evident. “That was a bit harsh.”

Vivienne exhaled slowly, a plume of mist curling from her nostrils as her form briefly shimmered, the tension in her muscles easing slightly. “Hungry,” she admitted quietly. “I haven’t eaten since those bandits on our last trip. I’ll apologize later when I’m… less on edge.”

Renzia shifted closer, her movements oddly mechanical but fluid at the same time. She glanced at the wagon and then at Vivienne, her head tilting in the other direction. “Fast… move-ment… then rest?” Her tone was strangely calm, almost soothing despite its broken cadence.

Rava’s expression softened as she rested a hand against Vivienne’s flank, her palm brushing over her obsidian fur. “We’ll find something soon. But maybe try not to snap at her too much, yeah? Kivvy might be annoying, but she’s doing her best.”

Vivienne grunted in acknowledgment, her sharp ears flicking back. She was already snapping at Kivvy—truth be told, the goblin had grown on her more than she cared to admit. But hunger gnawed at her mind, dulling her usual charm and making every little irritation seem far worse than it was. Like the beast within desperately wanted to get out.

“Let’s get moving,” Vivienne said after a pause, her voice steady but strained. “The sooner we’re on the road, the sooner we can get this over with. And maybe I’ll find something worth eating on the way.”

Renzia’s head bobbed slightly. “Move… soon. Feed… soon.”

“Right. I’ll keep an eye out for anything edible,” Rava said with a smirk. “Though given how picky you are, I’m guessing ‘edible’ is a very narrow category.”

“Very narrow,” Vivienne agreed dryly, her lips curling slightly in what might have been a smile—if not for the fact that her sharp teeth gleamed ominously beneath it.

Rava chuckled and gave her a pat before moving around to hop up onto the front of the wagon. “Alright, Kivvy, buckle in. This time, try not to complain every five minutes.”

“I make no promises,” Kivvy called from the back, though her tone was lighter now. She peeked out from under her heavy cloak, still wary of Vivienne’s mood but more at ease now that they were moving forward.

Renzia climbed into the wagon as well, her movements quiet but deliberate. She turned her blank, canvas-covered face toward Kivvy, then toward the supplies, as if silently assessing everything.

Kivvy glanced at her nervously. “You… uh, you okay back there, Renzia?”

The mannequin paused, then gave a slow nod. “Okay… now. Watch-ing… for cold.”

“You don’t look for cold. You just feel it. And I really feel it. I hate winter,” Kivvy grumbled, her breath puffing out in visible clouds as she hugged her cloak tighter around herself. Despite her layers, the chill still seeped in, biting at her fingers and toes. “And I’m still not used to you speaking,” she added quietly, almost hoping Renzia wouldn’t catch the comment.

The wagon creaked as it rolled forward, its wheels crunching over patches of frost that coated the road. The cold air hung heavy around them, promising an even harsher night ahead.

“Fee-ling co-old. I do no-t feel anyth-ing,” Renzia replied, her voice calm but fragmented, each word delivered with mechanical precision. She sat eerily still in the back of the wagon, her canvas-like skin reflecting the pale light of the overcast sky.

“Uh-huh…” Kivvy said hesitantly, unsure whether to continue the conversation or leave it at that. There was something unsettling about how Renzia talked—how every word felt carefully constructed, like a doll learning to speak for the first time.

After a moment of silence, Renzia tilted her head toward Kivvy. Her blank face betrayed no emotion, but her voice, when it came, held an odd, reverent tone. “I am incor-rect. I feel… lo-ve. For the miss-tr-ess. She is… ever-rything.”

Kivvy blinked, her discomfort only growing. “Uh… okay,” she muttered, awkwardly turning her gaze forward, pretending to busy herself with adjusting her cloak. She wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that declaration—there was devotion, and then there was whatever that was.

The conversation faltered after that, the only sounds being the rhythmic creak of the wagon, the crunch of wheels on frozen earth, and the occasional gust of wind. They left the city behind, the buildings giving way to open plains and sparse clusters of trees, all dusted with frost. By midday, a thin powder of snow began to drift lazily down from the gray sky, heralding the approach of winter.

The hours stretched on, and tension settled over the group like the cold itself. Vivienne, still hitched to the wagon in her wolf form, had grown increasingly silent and irritable as the day wore on. Her ears twitched at every sound, and her tail flicked with subtle agitation, as though the beast within her was restless.

Kivvy tried to keep herself occupied, fiddling with a cooling rod from her rifle or adjusting her boots, but she couldn’t help but steal glances at Vivienne. She wasn’t the only one who noticed. Rava had been keeping a wary eye on her friend too, sensing the growing unease.

By the time they stopped to set up camp, the air was frigid, and the ground was coated in a fine layer of snow. Kivvy shivered as she hopped off the wagon, rubbing her hands together to ward off the chill. Rava worked quickly, setting up the enchanted bubble that would keep the worst of the cold at bay.

Vivienne, however, stayed outside the bubble, pacing near the edge of the camp. The shadows flickered strangely around her obsidian-scaled form, the faint light from the campfire making her look even more otherworldly. She didn’t say much, only grunted when Rava offered her something to eat. It wasn’t the food she needed.

Kivvy watched her nervously from within the bubble. “She’s been like this all day…” she whispered to Rava.

Rava sighed, tossing a log onto the fire. “She’s hungry,” she said simply.

Kivvy’s eyes widened slightly. “She hasn’t eaten since—?”

“Since the bandits,” Rava confirmed in a low voice, glancing over her shoulder at Vivienne, who had stopped pacing and now stood still, staring off into the woods. “She can go longer without eating, but… it’s harder on her than she likes to admit. Makes her edgy.”

Outside the bubble, Vivienne exhaled slowly, her breath curling into the cold air like smoke. The hunger gnawed at her, sharper and more insistent than it had been in the past. She’d gone nearly two weeks without feeding before, so why was it hitting her so hard now? The taste of her companions was becoming more alluring with every passing hour.

She clenched her jaws, forcing the thought away. She wasn’t some mindless beast—she wouldn’t let herself become one. Still, the gnawing need made her irritable, dulled her normally sharp mind. It was like a fire burning low in her core, threatening to consume her from within if she didn’t find a way to snuff it out soon.

Rava approached her cautiously, stepping just outside the bubble’s boundary where the warmth faded, replaced by the bite of the cold evening air. Her boots crunched softly on the frost-covered ground as she stopped a short distance from Vivienne. The obsidian-scaled woman stood rigid, her breath curling into the icy air in short, frustrated bursts. Even in the dim light, Rava could see the faint shimmer of tension rippling through her sleek form.

“Viv… you okay?” Rava asked, her voice low and careful. She didn’t want to provoke her friend, but something was clearly wrong. Vivienne had been growing more irritable with each passing hour, and now, standing just outside the protective bubble, she looked like a coiled spring ready to snap.

Vivienne didn’t turn to face her. Her five black eyes remained locked on the distant treeline, tracking the way the wind stirred the skeletal branches. Shadows twisted unnaturally at the edge of the campfire’s glow, rising and falling like crystalline shapes beneath her gaze. “I’ll be fine,” she snapped, her voice sharper than she intended.

Rava instinctively recoiled a step, caught off guard by the sudden edge in Vivienne’s tone. She opened her mouth to say something, but Vivienne winced visibly, shutting her eyes as though regretting her outburst. She drew in a long breath through her nose, her nostrils flaring slightly, and then exhaled slowly, releasing some of the tension that had coiled tight in her body.

“I am sorry,” she muttered, more to herself than to Rava. Her voice had lost its bite, though it still carried a strained, controlled quality. “I want night to fall so I can hunt. The sooner, the better.” She paused, her claws flexing slightly against the cold earth beneath her. “Have someone else keep watch. I’ll be gone all night.”

Rava studied her carefully, noting the subtle twitch in her tail and the way her claws dug into the ground with each slow breath. Hunger, Rava realized again. It wasn’t just a need—it was eating away at Vivienne’s composure, turning her into something more primal. She didn’t like leaving the camp vulnerable, but if Vivienne didn’t feed soon… things could get worse.

“All right,” Rava said slowly, though the concern in her voice was evident. “But be careful out there, okay? You know what’s been moving around these parts lately.”

“I’ll manage,” Vivienne replied curtly. She didn’t say more, didn’t need to. She didn’t want comfort or caution—just darkness and prey.

Rava lingered for a moment longer before turning back toward the camp, her mind racing. She wasn’t sure what bothered her more—the prospect of Vivienne out hunting alone, or the thought of what might happen if they couldn’t find something for her to feed on soon.

Night fell swiftly, the gray sky darkening into an endless void. The campfire crackled softly within the bubble, its warmth casting flickering shadows on the nearby trees. Kivvy sat huddled near the fire, hands outstretched to soak in the heat. Renzia sat across from her, unnervingly still as usual, her blank canvas-like skin reflecting the shifting light. She didn’t seem to mind the cold—or anything else for that matter.

“She’s not coming back until morning, is she?” Kivvy asked, breaking the silence. Her voice was quiet, but the nervous edge in her tone was unmistakable.

“No,” Rava answered as she knelt by the fire, adding another log. “She needs this. Let her hunt.” She hesitated, glancing at Kivvy. “And don’t take anything she said earlier too personally. She’s… struggling right now.”

Kivvy shrugged, though her eyes didn’t leave the fire. “I get it. I mean, not really, but… I get it enough. Still, I wish she’d just eat something already so she’d stop being so scary.”

“She’s picky,” Rava said with a smirk, though it was half-hearted. “Can’t exactly shove bread and jerky at her and call it a meal.”

Kivvy snorted softly, though the tension didn’t leave her expression. “Yeah, well, picky or not, she better find something soon, ‘cause I don’t like it when she gets like this.”

“Me neither,” Rava muttered, poking at the fire with a stick. Her thoughts drifted to Vivienne, now likely prowling the woods alone. She trusted her friend, knew she was more than capable of handling herself, but something about the growing cold and the encroaching darkness made her uneasy.

Vivienne’s bare feet made no sound as they pressed into the frozen grass, the cold ground rough beneath her soles. She moved with a predatory grace, her black eyes gleaming as they scanned the endless expanse of the steppes. The chill of the night wind didn’t faze her; she barely registered it. All that mattered now was the hunt—the gnawing hunger that clawed at her insides, demanding to be sated.

The steppes stretched endlessly before her, rolling hills and scattered boulders bathed in pale moonlight. The air was crisp, clear, and sharp, carrying faint traces of life—prey. Vivienne closed her eyes briefly and inhaled deeply, tasting the aether on the wind like a serpent tasting the air. The scent was faint but distinct, distant yet close enough to stir the primal part of her mind.

Her eyes snapped open, locking onto the source. There, less than a hundred meters ahead, three shapes moved through the grass. Roughly humanoid in size, they were hunched and skittering, their limbs elongated and awkward, their heads low as if sniffing for something. She recognized them immediately—small, lesser aether-beasts, weak but just enough to quiet her hunger.

Lowering herself into a crouch, Vivienne crept forward. Her tail dragged lightly across the grass behind her, the obsidian blade at its tip gleaming faintly in the dim light. Each movement was fluid, deliberate, her breathing steady despite the wild thrum of hunger coursing through her veins. She moved like a shadow across the frostbitten terrain, swift and silent, closing the distance with ease.

The creatures hadn’t noticed her yet. They were too busy foraging, oblivious to the danger creeping closer with every heartbeat.

When she was close enough, Vivienne stopped, her muscles coiling tightly. For a moment, the world around her seemed to slow. The wind whispered through the grass, the faint rustling of the creatures’ movement reaching her ears. Then, without warning, she sprang forward.

Her claws slashed through the nearest creature before it could react, the force of her lunge knocking it to the ground. It let out a high-pitched screech, but the sound was cut short as Vivienne’s jaws clamped down on its neck. Hot blood flooded her mouth, rich and thick with aether, sending a jolt of warmth through her body. She tore the creature apart savagely, the primal hunger driving her to finish it in moments.

The other two creatures bolted, scrambling frantically across the steppes, but Vivienne was already in motion again. She surged after them, her bare feet pounding against the frozen earth. The second creature didn’t make it far—she caught up with it easily, her claws hooking into its back and dragging it down. It flailed wildly, its shrieks echoing across the night, but Vivienne didn’t hesitate. She ripped through it with feral intensity, her claws and teeth shredding flesh until nothing remained but a lifeless heap.

The last creature was faster, its desperate sprint carrying it farther across the steppes. For a brief moment, it seemed like it might escape. But Vivienne’s hunger-fueled rage wouldn’t allow it. With a burst of speed, she closed the gap, her tail lashing out in a blur of obsidian. The blade at its tip struck true, slicing through the creature’s leg and sending it crashing to the ground.

Vivienne was on it in an instant. The creature twisted beneath her, hissing and snapping with razor-sharp teeth, but it was no match for her. She pinned it down effortlessly, her black lips curling back in a snarl as she tore into its throat. The taste of blood filled her senses once more, the aether surging through her as she fed.

When the last creature lay still, Vivienne rose slowly, her breath curling in steady puffs of mist that caught in the moonlight like silver tendrils. The steppes around her stretched into endless shadow, silent once more save for the soft whisper of the wind over the frost-bitten grass. She stood amidst the torn remains of her prey, crimson streaks staining her lips, hands, and the jagged spines jutting from her elbows. The thick, metallic scent of blood filled the air, mingling with the faint hum of lingering aether.

Despite the carnage, the gnawing hunger within her was barely sated. It thrashed beneath her skin, restless and wild, a beast demanding more. Vivienne swallowed hard, her breath steadying but her pulse refusing to slow.

A low, primal growl rumbled from her throat, reverberating through her chest—a sound more suited to a predator than a person. Her quintet of eyes gleamed faintly in the dark, the five black orbs scanning the vast, empty plains for any sign of more prey. Shadows shifted with the wind, dancing across the hills and boulders in the distance, but something else caught her attention.

She tasted it before she saw it—an unfamiliar, potent presence carried on the wind. Aether, rich and untamed, teased her senses like a distant promise of something far more satisfying than the meager creatures she had just torn apart. Her head snapped sharply in the direction of the scent, her nostrils flaring slightly as she tasted the air once more, like a snake sensing heat. Yes. There. Something strong waited out in the dark, beyond the horizon’s reach.

Vivienne’s posture shifted, her entire body hunching forward in anticipation. Her muscles coiled like springs ready to snap, her claws lengthening instinctively. They sharpened and darkened as they grew, their tips gleaming like obsidian daggers catching the faint glow of the moon. The crystalline edges refracted faint shards of light, making them appear even deadlier. Her tail flicked behind her, the bladed tip poised and ready.

She took one step forward, her bare feet pressing into the frost-covered earth, her sharp nails sinking into the ground for grip. Another breath, and the taste became more distinct—a mixture of raw power and something primal, something familiar yet tantalizingly different.

The scent drew her closer, every step of her bare feet pressing silently into the frost-hardened earth. Her claws dug slightly into the ground with each stride, ensuring balance and grip on the uneven terrain. Vivienne’s form remained low, her muscles taut, coiled for the inevitable strike. The wind shifted again, bringing a more potent whiff of the beast ahead—thick with aether and raw power.

Then she saw it.

The creature was unmistakably a boar, but nothing about it resembled the mundane beasts of the lowlands. This one was immense, standing taller than most wagons, its grotesque body thick with gnarled, knotted muscle. Its bristly hide shimmered faintly with an oily sheen, as though coated in some strange, iridescent resin. Pale, jagged tusks jutted out on either side of its massive head, unnaturally long and cracked with glowing veins of blue light. They looked like something ancient, something warped by aether long ago.

Its eyes were the strangest of all. They glowed an eerie green, not with intelligence, but with a malevolent, primal energy that pulsed in time with the creature’s labored breathing. Every snort from its flared nostrils expelled a gust of frigid steam, carrying a metallic tang. The ground beneath it bore deep gouges where its hooves had scraped the earth bare, exposing frozen roots and rocks beneath.

Vivienne didn’t hesitate. She couldn’t afford hesitation.

Her body hunched lower, eyes locked on the massive beast. The quiet, methodical predator in her yielded to something more instinctive, more feral. A low, guttural snarl escaped her throat, rumbling from deep within her chest. She inhaled deeply once more, savoring the scent of prey mingled with aether, the air thick with the promise of a kill.

Her mind grew hazy, consumed by the hunger, by the ancient instinct urging her to tear, to consume, to end.

The boar turned its massive head, ears twitching as it caught her scent. For a moment, neither moved—two primal forces poised on the edge of violence. Then, with a deafening bellow, the creature charged, its hooves pounding against the frozen ground, shaking the earth with each step.

Vivienne let out a feral growl and launched herself forward, her claws extending further, lengthening into cruel obsidian talons. Mid-stride, her form twisted, bones snapping and reforming, muscle stretching and growing as her humanoid shape gave way to her giant wolf form. Her limbs thickened, her tail lashed behind her like a whip, its bladed tip gleaming in the faint light. Her neck lengthened, jaws widening to reveal rows of jagged teeth that gleamed like polished onyx.

By the time she completed the transformation, she was no longer the small figure prowling the steppes but a towering beast of shadow-touched fur and savage power. Standing equally as tall as her prey, her eyes stared burned with hunger, each one locked onto the charging boar.

They collided with a sound like thunder.

Vivienne met the boar’s charge head-on, her massive claws raking down its side as her jaws snapped at its neck. The boar’s tusks swung wildly, one nearly catching her flank, but she twisted with feral grace, avoiding the worst of it. She retaliated with a powerful swipe, her claws cutting deep into the boar’s thick hide. Sparks flew as her crystalline talons clashed with the strange, resinous armor coating the creature’s body.

The boar roared in fury, wheeling around with surprising speed for something so large. Its tusks swung low again, forcing Vivienne to leap back. The ground trembled beneath her landing, her claws digging deep into the frozen soil to anchor herself. She didn’t wait for the beast to charge again.

With a snarl, she lunged forward, faster this time. Her jaws clamped down on one of the boar’s tusks, the force of her bite cracking the ancient ivory and sending shards scattering. The boar bellowed in pain and rage, thrashing wildly, but Vivienne didn’t release her grip. She twisted sharply, dragging the massive creature off balance, its hooves skidding across the frost-covered earth.

The boar stumbled, and that was all the opening she needed.

Vivienne released the tusk and surged forward, claws slashing across the beast’s neck. Blood sprayed across the ground, steaming as it hit the cold air. The boar tried to rise, but Vivienne was on it again, jaws closing around its throat. She bit down hard, obsidian teeth piercing through hide and flesh, crushing its windpipe with brutal efficiency.

The creature let out a final, shuddering bellow before collapsing, its glowing eyes dimming as life drained from its massive form.

Vivienne didn’t rise immediately. She stayed hunched over the carcass, jaws still locked around its neck, as if waiting to be sure it was truly dead. Blood soaked her fur, steaming in the cold air, mingling with the frost beneath her claws. Her breathing was slow and heavy, mist rising from her nostrils in steady puffs.

Only when she was certain the boar would not rise again did she release her grip. She tore into the carcass without hesitation, her hunger driving her to devour it with savage intensity. Flesh, muscle, and bone gave way beneath her obsidian teeth, and she ate with a wild ferocity, like a starved animal finally given its fill.

Minutes passed, maybe hours. The cold wind swept across the plains, carrying with it the scent of blood and the faint metallic tang of aether. Vivienne paid it no mind. She was lost in the primal satisfaction of the hunt, the hunger within her dulled, but she still needed to eat. .

When at last she rose, her fur was matted with blood, her quintet of eyes gleaming in the moonlight. She stood amidst the remains of her prey, a towering, monstrous figure silhouetted against the endless steppes. The wind whispered around her, carrying faint sounds from the distant plains—predators lurking, scavengers drawn by the scent of death.

Vivienne let out a low, guttural growl, a primal warning to anything bold enough to approach. For now, this kill was hers.