“Wake up, idiot.”
The voice in her head stirred, cutting Zvezra’s sleep short. A colourful haze twisted and merged into shapes whilst a blaring cacophony of screeches and creaks assaulted her ears. There was no sense to it. She woke up like this each time and yet, it frustrated her all the same.
“Wake up! They’re close.”
Her gaze adjusted. Ears twitched, excluding all unnecessary sounds. She sat up, groggy, and the vivid shapes disappeared, replaced by massive trees and a sea of green as they fell into place. Not all predators could allow themselves the luxury of nesting among the highest of Feralas’ crowns. But she was no common predator, and neither had she sought common prey.
An invisible force flipped Zvezra upside down all of a sudden, her body to clinging to the branch on all-fours— it wasn’t her doing. The demon laughed, “Look, look below now and I might not push you off.” Frowning, she complied. The sound of footsteps reached her first as something clumsily stepped on the twigs, the pace indicated hurried stride. A heavy creature, accompanied by another. A rustle of feathers. A distinct creak of old, unimpregnated leather reins; a hawkstrider.
Zvezra smiled. Spectral sight revealed a bright, magical aura— no doubt a sorcerer. Magisters were powerful, she had learned that much during her stay at the Black Temple. Or so did the Sin’dorei proclaim. A shiver of anticipation ran down her spine, tattoos shimmered with a sickly glow as she prepared for a leap. No rumour would save this one.
The hawkstrider stopped when the rustle of leaves above caught its attention, but it was too late. The demon hunter crashed against the animal like a boulder, instantly breaking its abdomen and sending the rider flying backwards from the sheer impact.
“Hahaha! Look, look! We made him soar higher than this bird ever would!”
She turned her head, the hawkstrider’s blood filling the cracks in her skin as it trickled down her face. The blood elf fell a few good yards away and only now started to comprehend what had just happened. Shaky, he pushed himself up enough to sit. A shadow of the approaching hunter caught up to him, and a foot pressed against his chest thwarted an attempt to cast a spell. An awful grin twisted her expression, there was something satisfying in the sight of the mage squirming and helplessly flailing his arms; something she and Wergat enjoyed separately, each in their own way.
“Good, good! And now ki-- oooh!”
Zvezra perked up, it wasn’t normal for the imp interrupted himself. “What?” she said out loud, confusing the wide-eyed mage. His stubbly chin quivered but no sound came to form an answer. “His mouth! Inside! Inside, there’s shiny.” the imp rambled, cackling with glee.
A disgusting hand kept the Magister in place when the other forced his jaw open, and the sun revealed their prize - a set of golden teeth. The horrified look on the blood elf’s face intensified just as much as Zvezra’s smile grew, reigniting his struggle. She could barely feel his kicking and fists hitting her body, and it grew only weaker as she pressed harder to keep the mage in place.
“Get the shiny, fool!”
An unholy scream drove the birds into a scattered craze as the blood elf tore his throat, blood gurgling in his mouth. Zvezra pulled at the base of his lower jaw, forcing it apart— quite successfully so. Gore bursted and poured down the mage’s neck, staining them both. A violent spasm overtook the elf body and once again, it was quiet in the forest.
The hunter rose with her reward. She spun the jaw in her hands with child-like curiosity, mesmerized with the glistening gold lining the teeth. Today, the demon wouldn’t speak again.
A little story revealing what Zvezra was up to in Feralas a while ago, prompted by a unexpected idea. The imp’s secret stash grows ever larger.
![:smiling_imp:](https://d1bg94bbsh66ji.cloudfront.net/en/wow/images/emoji/twitter/smiling_imp.png?v=6" ":smiling_imp:")
