Sanguine

Meg felt herself weakened as the adrenaline left her – what a night! She’d been on her nerves all evening. She leaned against Cornstalker for support, too exhausted to care if it would be taken the wrong way – she didn’t MEAN it in a romantic way, and so she just had to hope he understood that or explain herself later, when she wasn’t so worn out. As they reached the school, he gave her a bit of a hug, asking if she wanted him to walk her all the way to the door, but she shook her head, intending to head to the cafeteria in order to get a good stiff mug of tea or something to steady her nerves. As she walked through the halls, jumping at every shadow and movement, she rubbed her head gently. How on earth would she become a big bad vampire hunter this way?
In the cafeteria, she made herself some tea and collapsed into a chair in the corner, putting her head down on the table. The place was almost empty, a few students finishing up a late dinner, and the quiet was peaceful, soothing to Meg’s ears. Still. Perhaps she shouldn’t have sent Cornstalker away after all – she could have used some company. She sighed, feeling the cool table against her warm forehead, fingers gently uncurling from the mug of tea. She was so weary… what was the use, anyway? The mission had failed. Reconnaissance… hah. She’d made them bail out without learning a thing because she couldn’t keep a lid on her own emotions long enough to get the one piece of information that would allow them to actually dispatch of one of the infernal walking corpses that preyed upon innocent youths. Pathetic.
She felt a gentle touch across her shoulders and tensed, grabbing a knife from a shin-holster and turning ot meet her foe. she would not be preyed upon in her own residence, her own refuge of Pelor’s might! Startled, however, the young woman took half a step back, holding her hands up in silent protest of innocence. “Sorry, sorry, you just looked tense…” The woman’s silver hair neatly matched her serious, steel-grey eyes, and she wore a soft purple cloak over a golden blouse and silver bottom. Her ears were decidedly pointed, but she was tall for an elf, and she had that elven sort of grace that accompanied creatures of pure magic like herself. Meg blinked. She’d never understood why elves were hated and feared – they were clearly so beautiful, especially now that she had the chance to see one up close. Cornstalker had been handsome enough, in a roundabout sort of way, but then, he was only a half elf – this was the REAL THING, living and breathing in the flesh before her. Blushing beet red, she’d sheathed the knife hastily, mumbling an apology as the other girl waved her hand idly. “no, no, the fault was mine. I’d forgotten, I’m not among my people – I’d assumed you heard my approach, but I forget how deaf you humans are. Please, forgive me. May I sit?” The other girl waited politely as Meg stammered an assent, then seated herself, so fluidly Meg wondered if she’d really moved at all.
“My name is Tessla Greyhawk. And yours?” The girls’ voice was melodious and perfect, ringing like soft chimes in Meg’s ear. How could she ever have gone so long without hearing that voice? She’d heard pretty voices before, but this… she chided herself silently. If Miss Greyhawk had been a man Meg’d have thought she was being distracted by lust, the way she was carrying on mentally.
“Ah, Meg. Megara. I’m Sir Vormir’s ward,” She hastily added, not as a boast but more to excuse the fact of not giving her last name. She really wasn’t a member of the Brown family any more, though she felt a twinge of heartache when she realized this; she was no farmer’s daughter with a small plot of land in the middle of nowhere, she was Sir Vormir’s ward and his spiritual heir, though of course neither of them had nor would ever openly admit such a thing. It wouldn’t do, after all; Pelor asked of them humility, and if the Lady Angela could be humble they at least had to try.
“Pleasure to meet you, and may the moon shine upon you.” The other girl smiled warmly. “Tough day?”
“You have no idea.” She groaned faintly, burying her head in her arms. “I acted like such a dunce…”
The woman gently put a hand on Meg’s arm. “There, there. I’m sure you did your best, did you not? We can’t all be Elven, after all. Some of us make mistakes.”
Meg lifted her head, about to furiously chew out this impertinent young woman, only to meet the silent laugh in the girls’ eyes and soften. How could she be angry, when the other girl was so very beautiful, and it was clear she was just teasing her playfully…
The girl gently stroked her arm, letting the tips of her nails gently run along the skin, as Meg gave a slight shudder. “H..hey, stop that.”
The other girl raised an eyebrow, bemused. “How long’s it been?”
Meg blinked. “..beg pardon?”
“Since you last had sex, of course.”
At this she turned red. “I don’t.. Pelor doesn’t… don’t.. bad!” she stammered, her speech hindered by the nails on her skin.
Tess chuckled, bemused. “Really?” her voice almost purred. “You humans are so weird.” Still, she removed her hand, crossing them in her lap. Such graceful fingers! Such a smooth and pretty arm! Such lovely nails! Meg struggled not to stare. Who knew mortals came in such lovely, polished flavors?
“Something the matter?” Tess tilted her head to one side, curiously looking at Meg. Shit, she’d noticed. Meg shook her head, trying not to make a fool of herself.
“…pretty.” she said, at last. “You, I mean.”
Tess threw her head back and let loose a silver, tinkling laugh. “You are so charming! C’mon, my room’s down the hall, and you look like you definitely need some sort of release.”
Meg blinked, her eyes confused. “Release?” she asked, stammering. “huh?” Tess didn’t give her an answer, though, merely taking her hand and tugging her towards the door.