Grip the universe. Reshape it. Disregard the screams.

monsters, or characters who view themselves as monsters, being touched and/or treated gently for the first time in their life.

“The tracks are fresh & on the bridge—” The echoing growl that comes from the monstrous fox silhouette that looms in the darkness; sinuous shadows giving form as her features rise, attempting to catch the familiar scent amidst the earthy endearments of the woods. Glowing eyes of molten gold blazing among florae that gives her the blessing of hiding, before a snarl crawls.

“Drips of sweat, your warm blood… I don't see you, I only smell you, I sense you.” ( Like a predator screaming from hunger, weathering you down for miles ) ; for how long would she seek it out? It makes her internally smile at this little game of training whims as the savage mirage dashes among trees with ease, not breaking even a single branch & yet allowing the sound of her voice to travel across it, a low & silken purr. 

“You smell so good~ ♥” 

"Dearest Brother," the elder sister chimed as she continued to wrap her forearm in a short roll of gauze. Tresh winced ever so slightly as a bolt of pain shot up to her arm then down to her fingertips, her nails shining bright green in the sun before diving into coat pockets, "Does this anti-coagulant flower call for disinfectant before treatment?" The money between them was light, and further expenses could spell a trip home earlier than desired.

Thresh made a small adjustment to his backpack as he tucked away a suspiciously old and beaten journal. While it would have been more convenient to store their haul within the confines of their lanterns, living matter had a nasty habit of disintegrating due to the parasitic nature of their carried prisons. "My notes indicate the bleeding will stop on its own and not require further treatment, save for several changes in bandages." The Warden's answer was cold and calculated, spoken as-a-matter-of-factly rather than the doting nature his sister's voice carried. However, he smiled ever so slightly. Seeing Tresh inconvenienced without directly causing her problems always brought him a dash of serotonin. It meant she needed him, and who doesn't like being needed?

Bleeding, tired, and approaching a short man-made bridge, the Twins gradually came to a halt. The gap was short, but just beyond a comfortable jump. However, more pressingly, they were not alone at this impasse.