"Mistress?..." A questioning voice called towards a figure laying down on a large bed, as its owner entered the room, quickly kneeling. A pale hand lifted up listlessly from the black satin sheets and waved side to side. The minion scurried closer on its knees and bowed his head, careful not to touch the sheets. "Everything has been set up and thrice checked, Mistress. As soon as you are... you are well enough to stand we will launch a full fleet of aviation warships. Mistress Tar ---"
A sharp pain made the minion stop, whimpering. Four straight lines marked his cheek, red quickly filled the cuts caused by the nails of his Mistress. He quickly pulled back, fearing that the wetness he felt on his cheeks would stain the already dark sheets. "When... I can... sstand? You're... expecting... that I mu... must wait to... get my re...revenge?!"
"M-my apologies, M-mistress." The minion stammered, a chill running down his spine as he heard his Mistress' weak yet sinister voice croaked. "I-I assumed th-that you would wa-want to wai-wait... until you coul-could be able to l-lead the fleet."
"Fool... Wh..what makes you thiink... that I would not... not be able to?" Drusilla's voice growled softly, her tone almost playful. The minion glanced for a second at his Mistress' form.
"Th-the spell, Mi-mistress. You have not-not finished ga-gathering yourself together." He glanced once more at the prone form on the bed. Mistress Drusilla was lying on her back, dried blood stained her limbs. The spell she had used to flee Tara's attack on her life came at a terrible price, especially since She had Herself revived early. Her body had disappeared, evaporated into the air with the spell, making the reviving part extremely painful and lengthy. Magic never came without a price as Drusilla's body struggled to regain its form. Her face, barely recognizable in the beginning, was slowly regenerating skin to cover Her cheeks. Her legs look as if amputated with a hack saw.
"Oh? This? It'ss ju...just a flesh wou...wound." The pale Mistress replied, a snarling grin appearing on Her face. "You'll h....have to wait... and see wh...what I plan... to do to that bitch... Tara. Now... Now get my Gen.. General... in here."
"Y-yes, Mistress. As you command." The minion bowed his head and shot out of the room.
"Soon... cubby. Momma's coming for you."
Kathryn muttered softly as she wiped the sweat away from her forehead with a rag. She and a male Wolf- Hybrid had finished lifting several large boxes onto the table filled to the brim with heavy, thick volumes for the library. Rupert Giles, a Crested Owl hybrid, hovered excitedly around the table, his eyes glinting happily behind his glasses.
"Oh my, look at all these books." He uttered under his breath as he took his glasses off, swiping them neatly with a clean cloth. His eyes fluttered as he moved back. The male wolf snarled as the older avian male edged closer to him. Giles frowned and raised his eyebrow, his voice snappy. "Excuse me, Mr. Osbourne, what was that?" Daniel 'Oz' Osbourne coughed, clearing his throat as he stammered to retrieve an apology.
"Sorry, Giles. Smell." The short redheaded male ejected, moving a bit further away from the Librarian, crossing his arms self consiously. Giles widened his eyes in suprise.
"Goddess, I'm sorry... I suppose I forgot to clean up from my night flight." Giles paused and chuckled at his rhyme before excusing himself. At his departure, Kathryn stretched and dusted off her pants and shirt.
"He didn't smell like anything." She commented lightly, a teasing grin on her face. Oz shrugged and smiled wryly in return, as he twisted side to side. "Got us a break didn't it?" Kathryn gave the smaller redhead a playful push, laughing as Oz shoved her in return. She skids a few feet and growled playfully before tackling him down onto the table, pushing the boxes still filled with books onto the ground with a crash.
"Wait a moment... I didn't ---" Giles started as he returned, his eyes opening in terror. Books were scattered all over the library ground replaced by two wolves; Oz, black with a red streak running down its spine, and Kathryn, dark red with white fore paws, biting each other on the table. "Kathryn!! Daniel!! OFF of the TABLE! NOW!" The grappling wolves seperated quickly, slipping off of the table's surface with a yelp, marking the worn table even further with their claws as they scrambled to get a hold. They hit the floor with a thud. Giles stood in front of them and looked flustered, trying to form words. "Wh... You... My books..." The wolves whined in apology, Kathryn scratched the wooden floors while Oz lowered his head. "Wait.... Wait until I tell Mistress Tara and Nichelle!"