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Normally, she was never supposed to be in here… In this small moldy box. She should have been free as a bird in the ever-frozen tundra, in her home. Feeling the freezing air gently hit her on her snout. But instead those flesh bags invaded her safe haven. They slaughtered her kin, her family, her people, all of them! Before her very eyes. Except they spared her and took her away to a place unknown to her. All that bloodshed for their cores. Their wails of sorrow, of… of anguish still continued to echo in her ears. Every night she saw them in her dreams calling for help eyes crying rivers of blood. This wasn't life, this was torture. From that day on, she swore to her god Tsalice that she would kill and slaughter as much of those cowards as she possibly could at any cost no limitations!
She hung her head down, maybe out of anger or spite or even shame, tough she didn't even know herself. Her eyes were soullessly fixed onto the rotting wooden floor of the cramp, depressing box. Soon… Soon she would find a way to get out of this rot scented box. Rot… She thought It smelled rotten. A sinister grimace stretched across her face as she hooked one of her many claws into the supposedly hard wood rather easily. She stared at it for a few seconds before looking up at one of the walls. She could escape this hell.
'CRACK'. The wood gave way easily as she rammed her head through the wall. It stung, but her head went straight through. Head barely through the rotting wood before, and she already caught a glimpse of a flesh bags. She snarled, voice dripping with hatred and disgust "Food, you're going to be my food." But in the corner of her eye, she caught sight of something with a silvery gleam. It took a moment to process before the realization of what it was hit her like a train. She ducked her head just in time as a silver sword cleaved past the spot where her head was just located.
She took a moment to catch her breath, although it was just a brief one. There it was again that dangerous silvery glint, She threw herself to the side barely dodging in time. Before the flesh bag could wind up his sword again to strike, she flung herself at his hand. Her freezing teeth burrowing into the flesh bag's hand. Teeth breeching skin and piercing deep into the vile flesh drawing blood. An earsplitting cry of pain and anger escaped the flesh bag's lips. Ivy could feel the wound freezing over, but she couldn't rejoice for long.
A hand grab her by the neck and held her a distance away.
"You're going to sit still in this cage, or I will slit your throat"
The flesh bag flicked, his hand still holding her neck with an iron grip. It stung so hard, like he was taring off her pelt. Ivy snarled at him before rapidly cooling her body, beginning to freeze the man's hand. Another cry of pain escaped his lips, but not long after that she felt herself falling to the ground and smacking with her back onto it. The wind got nocked out of her lungs as she struggled to stand, her legs shacking under the effort. But Ivy didn't recover fast enough as the man plunged the blade into her, right through her magic core, breaking it rather easy. Not even a few moments later, she already felt the cold steel sliding out of her body. Before Ivy's magic power completely could vanish, she shot out a single ice blade, severing the man's hand off his body, painting the ground bloodred.
As the mocking sound of the fallen sword echoed around them, she instinctively bared her snow-white teeth, still tainted with a blood crimson hue. "Yeah, how do you like that, you disgusting puss written worm!" Ivy's tail wagged behind her, clearly enjoying his pain. Then she got a stab of pain herself, her vision went blurry for a second. Long enough to make clear that she was mortally wounded. Her eyes locked onto the blood puddle under her, her reflection stared back at her. The flesh bag's hand flashed forward, trying to grab her. She quickly evaded and lunged at his throat. Ivy's teeth bored through his windpipe and severed multiple major arteries along the way. Another scream, but this time gurgled with blood. He made the fatal mistake of trying to wrench Ivy off his neck. In response, Ivy quickly clamped down even harder at the same time he struggled desperately to wrench her off, her grip tightening, the combined force ripped out his windpipe and completely teared open his neck. For a brief moment, he just stared in disbelief.
The flesh bag tried to scream, but he failed as his vocal cords were completely ripped out, the gurgling wheezing replaced the silent cries of pain and anguish. He tried to cough, desperate to clear his lungs that were filling with his own crimson blood. Grabbing at his neck with his hands while the salty sweat worsened the freezing wound. As his knees finally gave in, Ivy pounced again, ripping open his stomach while he was still alive. Looking down on his intestines, she collapsed out of blood loss.
"N… ye… lit… one, i… not t.... .... you … die."
A while later, Ivy opened her eyes. "Why am I not dead yet?" she whispered. Her wound was healed, but her magic core was still broken. She pulled herself upright and walked over to the corpse before taking a bite.
"Now that's what I'm talking about, fresh meat out of a living creature is just the best! What makes it even better is that it's a flesh bag. What should I eat next? The liver maybe?"
After a while, she finished her meal, her white pelt stained bloodred. Ivy looked around for a bit and spotted in the far distance an endless expanse of what appeared to be pines, but without needles? "Huh, What the hell are those things?" It still looked like a forest at least. Ivy began the long walk to the vast forest that stretched on for miles.
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"You're majesty!"
"Yes, Agrul what is it?"
"The transporter has been found dead this morning, and it would appear that your pet has escaped, my liege."
"WHAT! It was the last remaining of its kind, find it right this instant It's mine and mine alone, not even mother nature can have what's mine. And also prepare for the execution of that child beggar that dared to look at me!"
"Yes my lord, right away my lord."
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Characters:
Ivy: Our Mc :-) she is a young white frost fox and the last of her kind and absolutely hates flesh bags. She is around the size of a fully grown real life red fox (In her species she is considered an adult, although she isn't fully grown, as her species grows much larger than humans), also she is 8 to 9 years old, frost foxes age slower than humans so in human years she is 24 to 27 years.
The king: The villain, thinks that everything is his and won't stop until he gets it. Considered a beauty in the kingdom.
Agrul: The king's assistant is rather normal looking.
The transporter: fodder and food for the Mc.
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Writer's note:
This is one of the first times I've openly shared a story I wrote. I hope you enjoy.
Flesh bag = humans