As the full light of the moon takes over the clearing in the town centre a pair of large eyes appear in the shadows, followed by a wide fang-infused grin. Those saucer-eyes dart one direction, then the other before a familiar...and yet still unfamiliar figure of blood-clot red and black comes bounding out of the treeline. Large bat-like wings flail along with the bouncing like unwilling dance partners and the outline of a large, winged skull is visible on the shield splayed across the back of the vampire.
The fae pauses for a moment, sniffing at the air with that upturned nose, and then dissolves into bubbling giggles...a bit like aural champagne with a healthy drop of hyperventilation.
"Smells like papa!"
The pix continues her trot until she reaches the tables circled 'round the town firepit, shambling up onto one and dumping out the leather bag on her belt. Blood-caked fingers dig into a pile of candy, shoving a few bits past stained lips before unrolling the white hide of a freshly tanned rabbit. One smallish hand wraps 'round the butterfly-hilted sword, using its pommel as a makeshift hammer to secure the fur to the table with metal nails. Lastly, quick hands paw through the pile to produce a large red stick of wax, scrawling with the primitive crayon in large askew writing:
'thYs iSS mY CanDEh! TheRE Is lOtS lyKe iT bUT tHiS pYLe iS mYnE!
My kAnDEh iSs mY bESt FriEnD! iT is My LyFE! i MUst mAStuR it As i MAstUR my LyFe!
mY cANdeH, WyTHouT mE, iT is Not EAteD aNd UseLEsS!
WyTHoUT mY kANdeH i Am uSEleSs! I mUSt EaT mY CanDEh!
i MUst eAt iT fAStUR thAn mY eNEmee whO iS tRYinG to EaT iT
I mUSt eaT It beFOur he EAtS iT
I WYLL!!
mY kANdeH anD i KNoWS tHaYT WhuT kOUnTs iS nOT tEh fLAvuR of tEH cANdeH i Eat, oR teH cOLur, Or tEh tEXtuREe. wE kNOws tHAt iT Is teH NumBuR of KanDEhs wE eaT. I wYll EaT lOTS!
My cANdeH Is aLYvE, eVIn as Me, BEecAUsE iT Is mAh lYfE. THus, I wyLL LUrn it As a BrothUr. i WylL luRNn iTs wEAKneSESs, ITs STreNGth, itS fLAvURs, ItS sTYkeNeSs, iTS wRAppUR, aND ItS soURcE. I wYll EvUR gUARd it AgAInst tEH rAVagES oV wEAthUR anD dAMaGEs As i wyLL eVEr GUarD mY lEGs, My ArMSeS, my WiNGs aNd My HARt agAInST dAMagE. I wyLl kEEp maH caNDeh CLeAn AnD REadY. We wILl beCOme PaRt oF eACh oTHer. wE wILL...
bEForE bOB, i SWeaR ThyS cReEd. mAH cANdEh aND mYsElF aRE teH deFENdurs oF mAH toWN.
We ArE TEh mAStuRS of OuR eNEmy. wE aRE tEh sAViOuRs of Mah LyFe!
sO bE iT, UNtiL vIKtOREE iS jAStrEY's aND tHeREE iS No EnEMEE, bUT PeeCES!'
Leaning back upright, the pix cocks her head to one side, pigtails leaning akimbo as she rereads her passage on the rabbit-flesh. Leaning down she lolls her tongue, dripping a mouthful of crimson candy goop into a small puddle on the hide. Quickly, before it can dry, she presses her thumbprint into the pile to create a sort of crude candy 'seal' of the same ilk as a noble sealing an important missive. Her task completed, she scoops the rest of her things back into the leather bag, leaving only the odd little creedo, pinned to the wood as she bounds back into the forest to disappear into the evening. Through the outskirts of Jastrey a gleeful off-tune song can be heard until it too fades into the night.