Untitled 'cause I fails.

She spat in his face, a satisfied light entering her mossy green eyes as a smirk played on her lips. He closed his left eye and wiped the saliva clean off of his face, anger showing in his fisted palm. She looked at him challengingly and he glowered at her with his intense blue eyes. He turned away angrily, loathing the orders he had been given and what they restricted him to.

She sank down to the ground with a deflated chuckle, wincing when the rope securing her hands behind her back chaffed her wrist. Similar yet more intricate binds had been placed over the wings on her back, ultimately grounding her. Her white feathers ruffled anxiously against the rope which caused her to cringe as more pain laced up the membrane of her wings and spread to her shoulder blades.

"How long must I keep these binds on?" she questioned and he ignored her, back turned and arms crossed as he looked out onto the rolling sand dunes around them.

"Hey, I’m talking to you," she snapped and he turned around, ex
pression still indifferent to her as he shrugged. "Go die in a hole," she muttered as she used her feet to turn her back to him.

Her gaze travelled over the golden dunes of sand that lay endlessly around them. She found there were white and orange flecks in the sand that shone silver when the sun beat down directly upon the area. Small dust devils swirled occasionally and while she could, Iris admired the swirling flecks of sand that spun in the mini whirlwinds.

"You got a name?" asked the gruff voice of her capturer.

"Everyone’s got something they’re called, but a name really isn’t one word," she answered lazily as she shifted some sand around with her feet, unimpressed by his question.

"So what’re you called?" he asked after a moment of registering her cryptic words as an actual answer.

"I’m called a lot of things," she said, another smirk meeting her lips. She was having a bit of fun toying with the boy, setting his nerves on end. Most people she met either took a great liking to her or wanted to shoot her down right on the spot. Either way, she always made an impression.

He stayed quiet and for a moment, she thought he had given up. She sat a bit straighter as she heard him approach from behind. He placed his hands on her shoulders and roughly turned her around. "Look, you little *censored*, I don’t play word games. I either get an answer the nice way or I force it out of you," he growled and she could see in his eyes that he wasn’t kidding.

Still, she smiled widely and blinked innocently. "Well, you’re quite the inventive one, aren’t you? I’m quite hurt at the notion of being called a dog," she stated sarcastically. A sharp stinging appeared on her cheek before she could make sense of what had happened. Her mouth gaped open for a moment before she regained her composure.

"Not afraid to hit a lady, I see," she said as she resisted the urge to roll her tongue to the side of her cheek.

"You’re not anything close to being a lady. You’re nothing but a crime against nature, a creature that shouldn’t exist," he snapped back at her and she winced.

"Iris," she said softly and he blinked.

"What?"

"My name is Iris," she said with a sigh. She watched as he ran his fingers through his tousled brown hair, sun-kissed skin rippling with lean muscle as he absentmindedly flexed. She ducked her head down between her knees and let her straight black hair fall into her face, covering the hopeless ex
pression that had somehow broken free from her hardened shell.

---

He didn’t talk to her after her small statement, and she half loathed him for that. She was also comforted by the silence and the fact that she didn’t have to keep up her bravado for him, even if he did know that she had already given up. Instead, she glumly watched the rolling sand dunes again and wondered how many minutes of her life she had left, if she’d make it to another day.

"I’ll miss the sunrise," she said softly. Her words were for no one but the mindless grains of sand that glittered in her vision. She knew he was listening but she paid him no mind. "I know what happens to us," she continued as her green eyes became watery, the glassy surface reflecting buried sorrow. "It happened to my mother. I was twelve and they were going to take us both, but she fought them. They killed her in front of me, but I still managed to get away."

She could feel him tensing behind her and she feared he would lash at her again, but no pain came. Instead, a small dust devil ambled its way over to her and lifted her dark hair slightly. "Would you kill me if I tried to run?" she whispered.

She stiffened at the sound of footsteps approaching, muted by the grains of sand that rolled under their feet. Iris forced herself to stand and as she turned, she stumbled back in surprise to see her capturer’s face before her. He looked away when she tilted her head to the side questioningly. At the cock of her head, she managed to see the approaching caravan from behind him.

She kept a stony ex
pression on her face and bottled up her fears as the camels pulling the caravan approached. "Skinners," she whispered to herself, but she could see her capturer nod slowly as he overheard her murmur.

Skinners; they were humans that had no mercy when it came to animal life or life like that of Iris. She closed her eyes as she imagined what the Skinners would be thinking as they approached. She shivered involuntarily at the fear that shook her spine. Her eyes opened again when the caravan was halted.

She could hear the creak of the wooden steps at the back of the caravan as one man descended them. She flinched when he came into view, dark eyes pouring over her body as he examined her. She felt sick at the greedy way he looked at her, hated his clammy fingers on her arm as he brushed her skin. "This one’s got quite the bit of Essence on her," he exclaimed admirably.

"Aye," her capturer answered and Iris noticed he had a slight husk to his voice. She shook her head at herself and cringed when the Skinner brought his face into hers. He didn’t meet her eyes, instead looked at the markings that tattooed her pale face.

"Yes, this one’s quite interesting," he continued, but Iris was no longer looking at the man. She was looking past him, through his eyes as her mind was flung to the past.

"You," Iris hissed into his face and she crouched down, preparing to lunge at the man before her capturer wrapped his arms around her torso. "I’ll kill you!" she screeched as she struggled against his arms, but it was no use; it could have been iron wrapped around her for all her strength was worth.

The man approached her again and inspected her cleanly, eyes widening as he recognized her marks. He laughed a dark sinister laugh that chilled Iris to the very bones. "Tsk, tsk, tsk," he said sadly as he cupped her face in the palm of his hand. "I see your mother died for nothing," he said as he stroked her cheek.

Iris felt her captive’s hands stiffen, but she paid no mind. She bit at the man’s fingers, but he snatched them away from her mouth, sparing his fingers for the time being. "She did not die in vain," Iris hissed, eyes narrowing dangerously.

"What are you going to do?" he mocked her, eyes wide and feigning fake fear.

"Nothing," Iris whispered.

"Release her," the man said and her capturer obliged. Iris fell onto the sand shamefully, legs giving out beneath her. She stared dully at the ground, wincing only slightly as the man sent a swift kick to her ribs.

"How much you be sellin’ her for, lad?" he asked and her she looked up at her capturer. He flinched when he met her gaze and glanced coldly back at the Skinner.

"Eight hundred runes," he said and the Skinner bristled.

"Are you mad!" he protested and Iris’s capturer shrugged.

"You said so yourself; she had quite the Essence on her. I’m wanting what she’s worth," he replied coolly. Iris stared at him, dumbstruck at the young man’s exclamation.

"I’ll have your runes in thirty days time, no more," he growled. "We shall exchange at Mesa," he said and her capturer nodded solemnly. The Skinner stalked up to the man and dipped his head down. "If you’re not there, I’ll send an entire army of Rylkes after you," he warned dangerously.

"That will not be necessary," he consoled and the Skinner backed away. He glanced down at Iris for a moment, lips curling up into a spiteful grin.

"Until then, dear Iris," he cooed and Iris raised her head to meet his gaze, her own unwavering.

"Until then, Raphael," she replied.

---

The caravan pulled away and disappeared behind the dunes. When Iris looked down, the tracks from the caravan had already been blown over with sand; for that she was thankful. She turned back to her capturer and wasn’t surprised to see his gaze on her. Different emotions flitted across his face when their eyes met, and she was dismayed to see the slightest hint of regret.

"So dear savior, to what do I owe the pleasure of you saving my life?" she asked, sarcasm heavy in her formal tone.

"What do they do to you?" he asked and Iris’s brows shot up as he ignored the question.

"Take our Essence, of course," she replied. "Don’t they teach you capturers about that?" she asked curiously.

"No," he responded with a bit of frustration in his strained voice.

That bit of news was quite the shock to her, but all the while, it wasn’t. She was getting a bit tired with the chatting, but she had no idea what her fate was now. Of course, he could have meant wanting the eight hundred runes for her life. She felt sick at the thought of someone bartering, selling her for the skin she wore.

His gaze left her face and widened slightly at the blood that was rolling down her leg. Iris craned her neck back to examine her hands, nose pinching when she spotted the source of the wound. "It’s the ropes," she said and shrugged, but the movement caused the ropes around her wrists to rub against the already raw skin.

"I can’t let you go," he seemed to say to himself.

"Actually, you can," she said, intervening with whatever thoughts he had been turning around in his head. She knew his reluctance was because of the liquid the ropes had been soaked in. They negated her powers and left her a helpless human, more or less. The liquid itself was made from the blood of a Rylke, something all of Iris’ kind feared. The blood on its own has no true effect against her, but when some of her kind’s Essence is extracted and mixed into the blood, it turns the blood into a sort of chemical that cuts off all Essence.

"What’re you called?" she asked suddenly, pulling herself out of her depressing thoughts.

"James," he replied and after a moment, he frowned. He approached her with hesitant steps and touched the spot on her cheek where he had slapped her before. She winced away from his touch, but he insisted on keeping his fingers rested on her cheek. She grew edgy with every moment his fingertips lingered until she finally stumbled back with a cry.

"I won’t hurt you," she promised as she looked away from him, unable to meet his gaze. She closed her eyes as he approached and she let out a sigh of relief when the bonds around her wrists loosened.

She closed her eyes as she felt energy surge through her as the Rylke poisoning was lifted from her wrists. She flung her head back as her senses returned, rejoicing in the sharp scent of the dunes around her, the sweet taste of the wind that tickled her nose. She could feel James watching her and she cracked open her eyes to give him an unwavering stare.

"Will you run?" he asked and Iris tilted her head slightly, green eyes shifting back to their less human form. Her pupils stretched and slit themselves like a cats’. Vibrant teal flecks lined her iris along with a small band of pulsing emerald green that appeared as she blinked. The markings on her face returned from their sullen blue to a glowing teal, much like in her eyes.

He stumbled back, startled as he looked at her rapidly changing appearance. "You didn’t look like this when I caught you," he said breathlessly and she could scent a hint of fear in his words.

"Be calm, James." She stretched out her arms, closing her eyes as she warmed her stiffened limbs. "I told you I wasn’t going to hurt you," she said as she eyed him again. She winced and her small smile fell to a frown when the feathers of her wings met the binds that grounded her. As if her sadness were the cause of it, her markings dulled and her eyes shifted back into their human form.

"You can break those bonds; they’re not laden with Rylke blood," he said gruffly to her and Iris approached him, eyes smoldering with anger. She pushed her face near his, but was careful not to touch him. A satisfied smirk washed over her features as she saw fear dance in his eyes.

"I am not free and what is flying without freedom?" she said as she drew away from him. She picked up a handful of sand, closing her eyes as some of the grains slipped through her ghostly fingers. She threw the sand at James, but it stopped in the air between them. Iris murmured a few soft words in her native tongue and the sand stretched out into a thin line, gingerly touching Iris’ palm and James’ heart.

"Our destinies are intertwined now, James," she said glumly and James shook his head, slightly taken aback.

"Leave. I do not want you here, Iris," he said and Iris blinked as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"What will you do about the army of Rylke who will come after you?" she asked in a snarl.

"You believe him?" James asked as his face paled.

Iris threw back her head in dark laughter. "Believe him?" she asked highly as she wiped a few locks of hair from her eyes. "I doubt he’d stop at Rylkes to get his hands on me. No, he’d send the very demons of hell after us," she said as she narrowed her eyes.

"Do not underestimate Raphael," she warned.