“All done,” Anax announced. The girl thanked him as she drew away from the window.

“Did you ever want children?” asked Patience.

“I never desired them in particular. Was always more taken with the act of creating them than the end product.”

Patience snickered.

“But if I ever did sire pups, then so be it.”

“Would you help raise them?” she asked, unwrapping the food she had bought earlier.

“It is our obligation to rear our young. Although they can walk and feed on their own within minutes of hatching, adults see over them as they develop and molt.”

“What about pups that are abandoned or whose parents have been killed?”

“Should others come across them, the orphans would be taken into a family or band that wants them. Like you.”

A small smile passed over her lips before biting into the hunk of cheese.

Her parents never skirted around the fact that she was adopted, but they steadfastly always reminded her she was their daughter. From a young age, Patience noticed how different she looked from her parents, and from most of the townsfolk. She was between the pale pink countenances of her schoolmates and the rich brown complexions of the Wells. And naturally as a child, she would form questions.

One day after school, when she was about eight, her father took her to his atelier in Keaton. He had received a swan from a man in town who wanted it mounted in mid-flight. He sat Patience down and made her watch as he sliced the bird open. Underneath the snow white feathers was gray and red flesh. Everyone looked the same inside, he had told her. Our outward appearances made us unique, but underneath the hair and skin, we were a mass of organs, muscle, and bone. Thus he began teaching her his craft.

Even though most of her worries over her skin subsided after that, a nag of curiosity would continue to remain in Patience’s mind. Despite knowing she was and would forever be Antander and Frances Firmin’s daughter, she still wondered about the place from whence she came. 

Perhaps her next trip would be to the parcel of land where her father found her as a babe all those years ago. Although it was highly unlikely, something might have been left from a life that could never fully unfold. Patience’s daydreams were cut short when she noticed a tendril slink to the corner of her mouth to taste a bit of cheese.

“What do you think of it?”

“It’s a bit strong,” Anax mumbled.

Patience chuckled. “What about this?” she asked and then quickly licked Anax’s lingering coil.

“Oh!” He eased into a ponderous silence, the tip of his tendril still hovering by her mouth. “I … can taste you … your tongue.”

“I guess most people can with a deep kiss, but since you can’t really accomplish that …” Patience lifted a hand to gingerly guide the tendril between her lips. Her tongue peeked out to take the misty coil in her mouth. It tasted of nothing and felt like a cool spray of water on the palate. Anax gasped. With his shock, the fiber of his being seemed to vibrate and a faint sensation similar to soda water met her mouth.

“You like this?” she breathed between the mist.

“Y-yes,” said Anax. Patience rolled her tongue around the coil. The humidity inside her caused Anax’s tendril to solidify independent of his will and become slick. She imagined this happened as well whenever he lay with her, but she was normally wet enough to not notice. 

The tendril then began to search her mouth, familiarizing itself with every tooth and divot. Patience began to suck on it, drawing rumbles from the back of her head. She quickly forgot about lunch as she worked her tongue against Anax. But suddenly he withdrew himself.

“Sorry,” he huffed.

“I thought you were enjoying it,” said Patience.

“Too much. Too close to the raw meat of my kills. If you kept going … I don’t know if I could keep myself from tearing into you—to taste.”

Patience paused. She did not know if he meant that as a metaphor for sex, or if he really wanted her blood after losing the ability to eat freshly hunted game.

“Too dangerous,” Anax muttered.

It was a true hunger formed in a phantom stomach.

Patience summarily swallowed her excess saliva. She thought of the space where her skin met her teeth, it was as close to a raw kill Anax would encounter nowadays. Yes, Anax was still dangerous. However, she was slightly charmed by his admission. She was proud of his restraint.

This being that unlocked the carnal desire within her never ceased to amaze her. She wondered how far she could tease him with her mouth, but his tendril was long gone. Every new sultry thought that formed in her mind never ceased to amaze her either. Anax had opened the door to a world with many possibilities, but lifting her from her monotony was his kindest gesture. The girl was grateful the skull was hers.