«So… when does the training start?» I ask her.
«It should've started a few hours ago, but Clotilde gave me some time to spend with my familiar. Speaking of that… I have this feeling the training she'll put me through will be far heavier and harsher than I can even imagine. And to endure it, I'll need a generous dose of blood,» Ayra says.
She parts her lips slightly, letting the shine of her sharp fangs show.
She doesn't need to say it twice—I know what she means.
Slowly, I pull off the upper half of my tunic, overwhelmed by a storm of conflicting emotions.
The fear of the pain from her bite—still sharp, still stinging like the first time.
The curiosity to see if, with Vis energy, I can dull that unbearable burning.
But above all—the sadness that this might be the last time I ever offer her my blood.
I know it's strange.
Like a gazelle feeling sad that the lion hunting it has been shot dead.
