Fear the Reaper

Whether from memory, or from mind, she liked to keep record. She wasn’t sure just how long, what she was would live for…Whether it be forever, or until she, was potentially slain.

She wanted something to look back on, a useful, harmless hobby. And her collection, and drawings, were something she took pride in.

“Thank you…It’s, an incredibly old place. I’m unsure whether it was a rookery, or part of a bigger farmer’s home long ago. But I can smell it in the floorboards, it’s at least 200 years old” she chuckles, that and, a few victorian spoons she found whilst gardening.

One didn’t tell her guests these things, as they stirred their tea.

“Well, I don’t feel comfortable around a lot of people at once, and I cannot really work alongside humans, but I do need, bits of money now and then. So I sell carvings, I make em with old wood” she explains, pointing to the heavily worked on stump, the vague, undetailed shape of a bird visible in the centre.

“That’s going to be a firebird when I’m finished…Have you ever read about, Phoenixes? I do love how different they look,depending on the writer” she chuckles, stepping over the shavings and dust, searching for her pots of loose tea “ And ah, yeah…Me and Wraiths aren’t the best pals, that’s putting it lightly”

Especially the ones, sent by her mother. They knew how to push her buttons.

“Might I ask, what you do? In your free time? I understand you have a go at baking, is there anything else heh?”

“Phoenixes are an astoundingly wonderful bird,” elegent, beautiful and a neverending cycle of rebirth. There were many reasons they were amazing. Sure he couldn’t see what she was going for in her iteration of the fire-bird, but what she already had done was quite impressive of its own. 

“If it’s not too much too ask, could I see your finished project of this one?”

He thought it quite amazing that she was able to make do as well as she was. It was something he couldn’t say the same for plenty of others he’d met. Not to mention how talented Incursu appeared to be artistically. At least, Death could only assume she was, not having seen any finished projects of hers, but sketches and making money from wood carvings? Certainly that was an admirable talent. 

Or perhaps it’s because he lacked those skills that he found those who did possess an artistic talent as admirable. He never really gave it much thought.

At her own question, he let his lower jaws creak a little, thinking it over in his head before letting out a little noise like he’d figured something out.

“I know it’s a little out of the blue, but I won’t lie…I do like, making little doodles of those I meet, it’s like, my own little mind journal. Just so I remember anyone I meet” she explains, finding herself a little more open about it.

He didn’t seem the sort, to call her strange for doing so.

She gently started making her way through the thick fields, leading him on, as a short blur of blue among the rich yellows and greens, finally ending up outside a small, old cottage.

A lone stone structure, among the rolling fields.

“I must apologize for, the bit of mess. When I felt the prescence of, that particular wraith I killed, I did abandon a bit of work in my living room” she says, opening the door to the sight, wood shavings, and dust.

“My…claws come in handy when I need a little work.”

Drawing those she met, it was certainly the first time he’d heard of that used as a method to remember others, but it was hardly a bad or even strange thing to do. Rather, it sounded quite fun, and useful as well.

“I imagine these wraiths force you to drop what you’re doing more than a few times,” he said when she brought it up and peered inside, taking in the appearance of the home.

It honestly wasn’t all that bad, not that he was expecting her to live in something of a shack. But he thought that the inside looked nice, and it certainly was located in a lovely spot.

The reaper would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little envious of all the beautiful colors. Certainly better than the dim gloom and doom of his own abode. 

It was nice meeting a fairy, that wasn’t vermin on wings. Inc had a little bit of, a dislike for little creatures, that pretended to be one’s friend…to spirit them away, or kill them.

Not that she killed every single one she met, but their wings were pretty to keep around.

“Interesting? Hmm, I’d say the same about you too. I think I’d be more interesting if I had, the look of interest about myself…” she answered, voicing her mind a bit, before pondering something.

…It would be rude, considering how close they were, after all. Why not go a little extra mile, for her new interesting fairy friend.

“I don’t suppose you have, a bit of free time, do you? I did just venture here to, get rid of this little wraith…but my home isn’t too far, if you fancied a little tea? I would, like to perhaps sketch you, in my journal, i-if that’s alright! I like making note of, New Beings”

“Tea and a sketch?” he repeated, humming a little as he thought the request over. 

Well, it wasn’t as though he could say no to tea, it was a wonderful drink and he could never decline such an offer. But a sketch? Well that was a different thing entirely, wasn’t it?

It was rather nice that she wanted to, and he supposed he was a new being to her, doubtful she’d met another like him, he hadn’t even met another like himself.

Well, there wasn’t much harm in it, he supposed.