“But there is something about brothers and family blood... Do you have any family?”
“Yeah, so I hear.” Feather blurted. “I meant.. about the brothers part.. Not the, uh... Do I have family part..” She stumbled over her words again, and the back of her neck grew hot.
The handsome man stared at her, not unkindly, his red robes turning a dark color of blood as the sun set. And then Feather was not in north Cear with him anymore.
“Ulvirjra! Stop that this instant!” The large female spat the words through her teeth, showering Ulvirjra with spittal. The bony elf peered up at Ilphness with violet eyes round as the moon. Though Ilphness had never seen the moon, she imagined it to be so. The sounds of the underground market buzzed around them, the droning of creatures big and bigger; peddling their wares. Ulvirjra coughed wildly, her body quaking as her ribs rattled. “Enough of that you sickly brat!” Ilphness grabbed her by a slender arm and pushed the young Tel'gothrim up against a nearby wall. She bent down till their faces were level, nose to nose.
“You are going to be the matron of an extremely powerful house in the Underdark. Act like it!” She hissed again through her teeth, her voice low. The drop in volume frightened Ulvirjra. When Ilphness yelled, it was safe. The young elf said nothing as the dark elf whom she called mother dug her sharpened nails into the soft flesh of her tricep. “Give me your hand.” Ulvirjra acquiesced, holding out a closed palm. “Open. It.” Ilphness's yellow eyes nearly glowed in the dark with anger. Ulvirjra opened her hand. “You certainly ARE your father's little bitch, aren't you?” She held it to an eye and snarled. “Next time, I will cut your hand off.” Ulvirjra swallowed as she watched Ilphness place the trinket in a pocket near her breast.
“But mother,” she whispered. “What if it doesn't work. I could be killed! You could be killed!'' She had pleaded the case a thousand times before, only now the day was nigh, and Ulvirjra became more and more desperate to escape the fate this plan promised. Ilphness narrowed her eyes and tightened the grip on her daughter's arm. Ulvirjra winced. “First your hand. Then your tongue.”
In an instant, Feather tilted her head to the side, focusing on the man again. He was staring at her, his eyes revealed interest. She did not stop to wonder what kind. Feather hugged herself as he spoke again, and as she wrapped her right fingers around her left arm, for a brief moment, she felt warm blood running down. She smiled at him, showing teeth.
((Bonus points for the one who gets the allusion in the title, and edited to replace the word "drow" with appropriate Dasarian word
))
