3. Episode The Peacock and the Crow
Even as she slumbered, the past still proved nettlesome and revealed itself in the form of nightmares that proved an unparalleled consistency which Gorean men could never amount too. A man can conquer a woman – her heart, body, mind, and soul, but there is always something in a human being which another cannot fathom touching. The bosk dung heap in combination with the fire proved to be of some benefit, despite the fact that her larl cloak which she had robbed from the bondmaid she murdered began to decline. Perhaps it was her time spent within the wilderness or the quality of the fabric, but she never seemed to be warm enough. That changed when her so-called “savior” arrived in the form of a previously marked man’s cloak. Crow’s garment offered her respite from the frost that labored in men’s work – only this time it was enslaving the last remnants of green nature. Autumn was tolerable for the Pani panther, and even in Port Kar for the duration of her formative years of beggary, she seemed to thrive best during that season. However, it was always during Winter where it was a hit or miss in her luck; winter is when she blossomed, when others seemed most content in the summers of their lives.
Her dreams were vast and uncompromising, though to state that they were cruel was relative. In her sleeping visions, she discovered how her gender became subordinate to men; the war between the sexes was waged through toil, labor, and violence. The chaos resumed until Priest-King gods declared that women were born to serve men. This knowledge she gained originally through reading and folktales, finding thediscovery silly, if not a bit cumbersome to her sensibilities. During the few moments of her life when she was free, her dependency was not upon men, but survival. But, survival incorporated men and it was a game regarding who had the upper hand. Yurei had always desired the upper hand, to maintain the control that evaded her the day that she and her mother were sold to the Karian slaver. She was treated as a daughter, but the stain of what Lord Nishida never left her and haunted her even in the present. There is no alleviation for women in a world whose fathers eagerly sell them to the highest bidder. Lord Nishida had inadvertently taught her that her gender was marketable and that she was at the mercy of men; even female children are not exempt from the standard Gorean men had coerced upon them.
Yurei stirred in her sleep, disturbing the snow beneath her fetal form as one of the moons illuminated her. Despite her disheveled appearance; gaunt form, tangled and dreaded coarse blackberry colored hair, and a visage that carried scars of which devalued her prospects upon the auction block, she was still beautiful. The serene countenance of her sleep, despite the tornado of otherworldly visions dancing in her head, revealed her heart. She was hardened, but soft. Cold and comfortably detached to where she could easily kill to survive, but compassionate enough to offer aide when she saw fit. She feared much, but rarely doubted herself. She had been the victim and now sought out conquests of meticulously and stealthily kidnapping high caste free women and selling them for a profit. Like assassins, she emptied herself of her feelings when enduring difficulty and simply soldiered through it like a rarius. She was strong, resolute, and wayward but haphazardly vulnerable and helpless when doubt did enter her mind. Men seemed to cause the rapid second-guessing of herself during enslavement. She could love so profoundly and obey unquestionably… that is, until she was denied the opportunity to be herself. The forest offered another perspective outside of the world of men. In the forest and alone, she could be herself… not Pani, not a free woman, a panther, a slave, an outlaw… just herself. The Northern Forests were her Thassa and she mariner to them; navigating through the sea of verdant trees with lush foliage and taking what she wanted. She was the “man” in her forest and she intended to remain as such
Her lashes fluttered spontaneously against her cheekbones while the dream abated; this one featured the mystical black bird which she had been following. Suddenly, she felt very warm due and her body tensed in opposition as she curled more tightly into her fetal pose. A sole panther girl in the wilderness is similar to that of an Earth lone wolf; they both can survive on their own for sometime, in fact for several years, but eventually the solitary lifestyle will catch up to them. The self-imposed solitude that the Pani panther had settled into was beginning to take its toll. Barns and fires afforded her some immunity from the cold and kept hunger at bay it was obvious from the feverish shivering beneath Crow’s vast cloak that she was battling her own limitations.
Consciousness briefly claimed her and her russet colored eyes opened to peer, albeit feebly at her surroundings. She descried the figure who was rekindling the fire, imbuing the flames with life despite hands which had shed blood for decades. Her heart thrummed against her chest when she gradually began to recognize the darkly attired man. From what her weak vision discerned, his clothes revealed him for what he was she croaked his name with a hoarsened, weary voice, “Crow, my black bird.” There was movement beneath the cloak as a single cracked and bleeding hand touched the ground behind him. She sought to touch him, even though the distance seemed pasangs to her in her enervated state, “Crow.” Though the effort to touch him was arduous for her, the peacock still possessed her determination as she called his name once more before succumbing back into the space where dreams and nightmares were sovereign and where the gods could continue their meticulous manipulation of her mortal, human mind. She called to Crow once more, though either through relief or delirium, labeled him with irony, “Tengu-karasu…”
Perhaps she assumed he was one; the protective spirits of her culture and childhood. But sleep seized her just as her hand brushed against his backside, alerting him of her awareness of his presence. Another gim hooted in the distance while a second moon made them luminescent; making them appear like otherworldly and ethereal creatures who seemingly belonged to scrolls of fiction for children. The darkness had subsided for now while it seemed like the moonlight intended to guide Crow as to what he should do next.
Crows Murder 
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