Prompt Post #1

[fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme]

 ROUND 1

FUCK IT WE'LL FIGURE OUT SPECIFICS LATER

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The Most Dangerous of Creatures pt2/4

[(Anonymous)]

Death-by-Fangs-on-Silent-Paws (whose name was definitely not Elaine, despite what some people kept insisting), was having a bad day. It had started with the realisation that the wizard-who-called-himself-Mummy (who was certainly not her mother), was late with today’s food. Her bad day had continued with the realisation that she had become used to someone bringing her food like she was still a cub.

She hadn’t killed anything in weeks.

As she paced back and forth on her hilltop, Death-by-Fangs-on-Silent-Paws could feel the strange walls of the den pressing in on her like chains. The wizard’s scent was everywhere, it lay under every rock and blade of grass, even the trees smelt like him at their base. She could feel his presence against every spine on her body, the press of it barely there at all but still inescapable. She snarled at the thought. She was Death-by-Fangs-on-Silent-Paws and she would not be chained.

Finally, the wizard entered the den. She could almost feel the joy his presence inspired in the other creatures in the den. The poor deluded fools that thought there could be any safety found in the presence of humans and for a moment, Death-by-Fangs-on-Silent-Paws considered breathing death over every creature in the den. She could kill them all and then this odd, confusing existence would be at an end.

Before she could decide to do so, the wizards scent reached her nose. He smelt… wrong. Over his normal scent was a fevered sickness, the sort she had encountered before when her mother had been teaching her how to breathe death long ago. Briefly, she wondered if she had done this to the wizard without meaning to but the sickness was too simple. It wasn’t the multi-layered illnesses that a nundu could inflict but it still wasn’t a good smell.

She sat back on her haunches and watched as the wizard circled the den, taking food to other creatures before finally approaching her hilltop. His movements were slower than normal, his steps louder and his skin looked both paler and unsettlingly moist. None of those seemed like good signs. She knew that when she breathed death, creatures died quickly but she didn’t know if a wizard could die of just one strain of illness.

“Good evening Elaine, I’m sorry tonight’s dinner is a tad late. I’m afraid I’m not quite at my best today,” he cooed as he set out her food in front of her. It was antelope, just as fresh and juicy as any she could catch herself but instead of eating it she just stared. Now that he was in front of her, she knew she didn’t want him to die. Not yet. Not until she knew why he kept bringing her food and cooing at her like she was a still a cub trying to catch shadows between her paws.

Mind made up, she pounced at him and caught the wizard firmly but gently under her paws. Carefully, so very carefully, she partially inflated her throat and held her breath as saliva pooled in her mouth. Then, when she was certain she had enough and before the wizard could escape, she collapsed her throat and started to lick him.

Almost immediately, he started making an odd chuffing noise and wriggled like a cub trying to escape a bath but she held firm and licked every inch of fur and skin she could find, making sure there was plenty of saliva around his nose so he would breath it in. She remembered her mother doing this for her when she was young and she was certain it would work on him too.

As she worked, she could almost taste the fever fading under her tongue and she purred before finally allowing him to wriggle away.

“Well!” said the Wizard-Called-Mummy as he stood back up and tried to rearrange his detachable furs. “I’m glad you’re in a good mood. Although I’ll have you know I did go for a bath already this morning and I’ll need another one after that. Really Elaine, did you have to get your tongue up my nose?”

She ignored him as she began to eat her food and after a few seconds, he picked up the food wheelbarrow and resumed his rounds. She watched out of the corner of her eye as he happily greeted every creature. Despite being covered in her saliva, she could still smell the love he emitted from every pore and as she watched him, she thought about names. Like all nundus, she had named herself when she’d first claimed her territory, but she had been called other things before that too.

Once, a very long time ago, when she’d been just a cub, she hadn’t been called anything as impressive as Death-by-Fangs-on-Silent-Paws. When her mother had still been teaching her how to hunt, she’d been called She-Who-Trips-Over-Her-Own-Paws. That had been an embarrassing name and even after she’d learnt how to walk silently, her mother had insisted on calling her that. She’d called her that right up to the day that Mother had told her to leave and find her own territory.

Before that, when she’d been so small that she could curl herself under Mother’s neck, back when her eyes had barely opened and Mother still held her close, she had been called something else. It hadn’t been a proper name. Not really. It was more of a chuff that Mother had used just for her.

Maybe ‘Elaine’ was like that. Not a proper name, but a sound just for her that meant she was loved.

If that was true, then maybe being Elaine wasn’t so bad. She stared at Wizard-Called-Mummy as he fed the oddly prancing creatures across from her. He still looked pale in the moonlight that lit that side of the den but he was already looking healthier than before.

She licked her paws and began to groom herself on the hilltop that he had created just for her. She could be Elaine. Just until he told her to leave.