~Union Lands 1875~

The spill of paint crossed the canvas as the fevered haze of hallucination wrought through her body.

War torn lands had only left Cheryth with the influence and persuasion to find another canvas. Her hands stained with the hues of paint among perhaps the stain of her own blood.

The Fever had taken her and yet she was in the prime of life. The Prime of Beauty. The Prime of her Talent.

Perhaps Death would claim her and make her famous. Was not that the way that it always worked out' You were remembered after you lived.

The notion brought her lips to twist as finally the brush was set down, a painting still fresh left to dry.

A turn away as she looked out into the night. There was nothing more then the need to get away and free her mind of the disease she hid so well. Then when you were alone it made it that much easier.

The women had whispered in the town of a new man that had come along. Dark, Mysterious, Proper and Aloof.

Such desparate lasses they all were, wanting more then to find a man to marry.

Companionship was nice but it was better to be off and alone, no one to answer to.

Hiding a cough in her hand she disappeared into the night, pale radiance of a woman even then, with the rich blood red of hair that women would swoon and wish for, those bright blue eyes.

The inn was found to join the locals for a drink, perhaps they would leave the Artist to her own devices, perhaps more so it would take her mind from everything...

~Present Day~

Time had changed her. The turn had made a wallflower into an exquisite corpse, a distraction. She should have known when the warrior turned up that even the strongest male could succumb to the whims and desires of a Hunger far beyond the control of those that carried it.

His blood as much as his desire had run hot in her mouth, poured and drenched her throat as she drank from him in the dark of the alley.

She had meant for perhaps a more appropriate place to feed, something more eccentric and alluring but the rough of the stones of the building she was pushed against held its own sinful charm.

Nothing else mattered once the taste of him was in her mouth, more so when he was inside of her, seeking and finding a union that would bind and pair. To make two separate halves as whole.

Cheryth had only expected him to be just another willing patron, but this one....he was different.

It was not the allure of courtship but the animal, the beast she drew out of him as she fed upon him and he lost himself in the desire of her.

This moment was different, the pleasure unmeasurable. Different and yet comparable only to the bliss she felt when her Maker came to her again and praised her as one would a prized pet.

There in those dark shadows she knew what had been found, knew what had happened.

Cheryth had found her pomme du sang and no one would sever that bond.

He belonged to her now.