[I’ve joined a new D&D campaign, so I wrote up a small piece to get a better feel for the new character I’m playing!]

[CW // Blood, violence, dark internal whispers, animal death]

Akakios crouched above the tracks pressed into the soft floor of her forest. One finger trailed across the edges of the indent, analyzing the spread of the two toes, the indent of their claws. Aakakios spotted a feather nearby, took it, and held it up to the crow perched on her oxen horns. The small corvid let out a single crow. Akakios nodded, stood, and grabbed her handaxe. On cloven feet, the young minotaur moved through the underbrush with sure steps, her tail curling and twisting behind her to avoid touching the brush and alerting her prey of her approach. With her free hand, she motioned ahead, and the crow took flight and cut a path ahead, her dark colors allowing her to bled in with the shadows. Alone, Akakios kept her ears alert. Her heart thundered in her chest. It had been some time since a harpy landed in her woods.

Blood droplets stained a few specific leaves as she moved through her home. She pressed her fingers to it, feeling the wetness of the liquid between her thin, soft fur. She kept moving. 

She tracked the creature for nearly fifteen minutes, the path meandering and wandering. The harpy likely found itself confused. Perhaps it hit its head on the way down. 

A crow’s call turned Akakios to her right. Cryus, her companion, had found something. Peeling away from the trial, she slunk through the undergrowth and came to the edge of a clearing. There, near a stream, the harpy had found herself a meal. The humanoid, female creature clutched a dark shape in her claws, which served as the tips of her long, feathered wings. Something snapped far to Akakios’ right, and the harpy lifted her head to look towards it. Her fangs were embedded in a young, flightless bird.

A baby crow. No. Not just one crow, but a child, and its sibling, and its parent, who had attempted to save them. Two of them lay in bleeding heeps by the harpy’s knees, the other crunched between her teeth.

Akakios bristled, her teeth clenching. She motioned for Cryus to move, burst out of her cover, and charged the harpy.

Startled, the monstrosity turned and let out a screech before Akakios’ horns cut into her, goring the creature’s shoulder. Screaming, the harpy fell back over her victims and partially into the water. As she struggled to come up for breath, Cryus dove, gouging out the harpy’s eyes and crying out all the while. 

The harpy kicked and dragged herself upright as Cryus retreated to Akakios’ side. She lashed out blindly, blood spilling down her sharp cheeks, into her fanged mouth. Akakios stepped back, avoiding the attacks, and gave a nod to Cryus. Cryus flew around the harpy, slashing and cawing and distracting the harpy with her noise. Akakios took her handaxe, inhaled slowly, and swung. 

Her blade cut through the creature’s neck. And her chest. It cut through her arms, and her legs, and her stomach, and so much so did Akakios brutalize the monster’s body, that she herself became stained with the beast’s blood. She found herself laughing and smiling, the iron, acrid taste spilling into her mouth, down her throat. She yanked the harpy’s head away from her body and threw it as far as she could, cut open the belly of the beast, scattered the intestines behind her. It wasn’t until Cryus flew into her face that she realized what she was doing. 

Akakios stepped back. Her hands shook as the adrenaline and fear settled in. She looked at Cryus, who landed next to the bodies of her kind, and crowed pointedly at Akakios. Akakios dropped her weapon and took a shaky inhale.

“I’m sorry,” she rasped. “I lost myself. Thanks, Cryus.” 

Cryus nodded. Akakios washed herself in the stream, then took the bodies of the other corvids, washed them, and took them back to the forest to settle them gently beneath a tree. She knelt there for a while.

“It’s becoming more frequent,” Akakios murmured. She looked the Cryus, who shuffled over to her. “Is it bad? That harpy was hurting some of our neighbors.” She reached out and ran a gentle finger over Cryus’ head. “We did a good thing, didn’t we?”

Cryus crowed, spread her wings, and landed atop Akakios’ horns. The minotaur stood and glanced over at the body of the monstrosity. 

“Perhaps it’s time we do some traveling, Cryus,” Akakios said. “If we really are hearing the voice of some king in our head, we should figure out what it wants.” She walked past the body, through the water, and climbed out the other side. She spared one more glance over her shoulder.

That felt good. 

She looked away, uncertain if the voice in her head was her own, or the dark whispers that came to her when she wasn’t careful. She pressed forward. 

Yes, maybe a change of scenery would be good. Maybe being around more people would be good. Maybe it would all help her drown out the darkness in her mind. 

Sci-fi? Galaxy-wide war? Talking sentient birds? Check out my upcoming book release!