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Reasonably speaking, Rue should have given up a long time ago trying to predict what Captain Hob’s next actions would be. He was a thrilling man, possessed of a single-minded determination and unremarked power that drove him ceaselessly through life. But even knowing that, even relishing in his electrifying ability to keep his peers on their collective back foot, Rue had truly not expected what he did just now, in the dark, dark night, doused on all sides by the throbbing light of pixie fireworks.
There in the pink-purple-blue-red glow, he took the card from Rue’s hand. He folded it with a care beyond need, making sure the corners met each other. He looked up and captured Rue’s gaze with his own. Opened his soft, toothy maw. Placed it on his plush tongue. And swallowed it whole. Savoring it.
As a feathered being, Rue knew that they could not physically blush, but they were sure, watching this, that their shock and attention showed itself in other ways. Maybe in their sharp gasp. Maybe in the haze their eyes fell into. Maybe in their thick swallow, or the way they couldn’t even move beneath his eyes, or the sudden, audible crush of their own dance card in one, tight fist.
It could’ve been anything, but they knew they must’ve shown somehow, because Hob watched them with a focus they had only seen before during combat, the dark spread of his pupils threatening to eclipse his harvest moon eyes, and missed nothing.
Hob licked his lips. Rue shuddered. A rich, cherry red firework doused them both in its light.
Reaching down with his long arm, Hob finally tore his gaze away from Rue’s own to lean down, take their claw in his, and kiss the bare feathers of the back. “I look forward to our dance,” he said. His words were polite, but his voice was all gravel and honey, and Rue, Rue…
Rue felt something at the point where their claws met their body and wanted nothing more than to ravish him. To dirty his soft, cream white cloak beyond the point of cleaning.
“Yes,” they breathed. Then, at speaking volume, “yes! Ye- yes. As do I. Ah…”
And Hob had always been charming, and handsome, and incredible, but standing slowly straight again now, he was something else. His shoulders were broad. His eyes were hungry. He moved with the intention of a man who knew, and enjoyed, that he was being watched. Confidence. That was the difference. For the first time that Rue had ever seen, he moved with confidence.
It might very well kill Rue.