**This piece contains BDSM Master/Slave sexual dynamics that are reflected throughout the piece, and the killing of and dismemberment of animals for food.**

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Thessalie watched as Mistress prepared to take them out shriek hunting. She kind of regretted telling her that rendered fat would help the paste last longer earlier, but, nothing she could do about it now. At least she’d be with Mistress, and by making it into a proper salve they’d be prepared for more cuts and nicks. And dinner. That is, if they could get a shriek. She held in a sigh as she looked up the sheer face of the spire. Set close to the ground was the remains of a room, and currently a roost for a small flock of cliffshrieks.

She could hear Mistress continuing to move about the camp as she inspected the spire. She had to resist the urge to stand up on her hind legs to better analyze the depth of the rock face. Light playing on edges drew her eyes towards a regular interval of shadows. The setting sun had highlighted the remains of a stairway. Her head snapped back to look towards Mistress.

“What is it, my Treasure?” said Mistress, not looking up from checking the ropes.

“There’s remains of a stairway cut into the rock leading towards the roost, Mistress,” she said.

This made Mistress pause and look at her. Her heart warmed in pride.

“What direction did it wrap around?” asked Mistress.

She spared a glance back up, “it wraps around south and then west. Towards where the land rises at the base of the spire.”

“_Perfect_, good job my Gem,” Mistress said.

Pride, and a tinge of vanity, warmed her heart more. With a tail flick Mistress commanded her to follow. They left the camp together, laden with supplies. Mistress told her to take the lead on tracking where the stairs went, since she couldn’t spot them. Thessalie led them onto a twisting path that hugged the spire, but was open. She could tell the openness bothered Mistress, but it was the most direct route to where the stairs should meet the ground. They discussed a plan to take down one, maybe two of the shrieks.

Within twenty minutes they were above the tree line standing on a mound of rock and dirt speckled with grass that hid looser rock. Mistress looked above them and cursed under her breath, while she pressed her side against her. It seemed to help calm her down, and Thessalie could feel the tightwire tension lessen a little. She looked up and sighed. _The stairs must’ve led to the part of the spire that’s now under our feet. Collapsed into shards_. She thought.

Mistress spoke with a steady voice, “there’s no getting around it, we’ll have to climb, my Treasure.”

Thessalie nodded her head. They tucked their bodies into the spire, both to reduce the chances of them being seen, and to keep the gusts of wind from knocking them down. A dangerous thing to happen with the still sharp shards of rock under their feet. She went up first, marking out holds for Mistress, and places to avoid putting too much weight on.

She had to be careful, the rock, while harder than the lowerlying stone, was still soft and brittle enough to break off if she dug her claws in too deep. She found out how easily when a shard splintered off and cut the base of a claw sheath. Bloody prints marked the way after that. Thessalie looked beside her and saw Mistress carefully moving her feet. Above them was a ledge that led to the stairs. She normally would make a larger fuss about nicking herself, but hunger and the desire to impress Mistress drove her forwards. It had been too long since either of them had eaten a substantial meal. 

Shrieking calls made both of them jump.

“Shit, we need to reach the roost soon,” Mistress mumbled more curses under her breath that she didn’t quite catch. _It’s probably for the best_, she thought.

She hooked her foot into a crack, and heaved herself up onto the ledge. She paused to catch her breath and inspect it. She’d need to move onto the worn stairs so there’d be enough room for Mistress to catch her breath. _I wonder what this place looked like before the decay. What people lived here? Could we live here, rebuild..?_ She wondered. Tumbling rock brought her attention back, and she shuffled onto the meager foothold of the stairs. 

Mistress’ wonderful paw reached over the edge, followed by her reassuring face. A flash of joy at being reunited. She wanted to help Mistress up, but there just wasn’t enough room on the ledge for both of them to maneuver safely. Finally, Mistress was up on the ledge. 

“Can the steps hold our weight?” Mistress asked.

She nodded her head, and demonstrated by a light jump. Mistresses eyes went wide in a flash of fear, but, her point was made. The stairs were safe. She let out a faint giggle as she turned around carefully and started heading up. As they climbed she studied the stairs. Some of them had remnants of a kind of cover or tile, likely to protect the stone from too much wear and tear. If she hadn’t been so hungry, she would’ve taken more time to inspect them.

_SkaREEEE_

The sound pierced the air for sun-spans. Far closer than last time. They were several body lengths from the outer edge of the old room. On seeing how close they were, Thessalie relaxed. They’d have time to set up before the shrieks arrived.

A few more careful steps, and she was at the edge of the room. Now came the unpleasant part. Mistress and her had spoken about it on the way there, but now that it was time… _Ugh, this is going to smell._ _If Mistress allows it, I’ll get soap flowers to wash this off afterwards_, she thought grumpily. She saw the piles of cliffshriek droppings. Some old and dried, and some disgustingly fresh. _At least Mistress’ paw is wrapped up_, she thought.

They shoved their gear in the entryway to a half collapsed hallway. They pulled out ropes to tie into nooses, and rope coiled into careful loops in case they needed to tangle up one of the deafening creatures. They marked out which of the hollows clawed out of the softer rock in the walls would be the best to lay nooses for. Mistress was limping, but trying to not show how badly the cut was affecting her ability to walk. _I’ll work harder,_ Thessalie resolved herself. After the ropes were set, it was time to do the most _disgusting_ part of the operation.

Thessalie approached a particularly large pile of droppings, and held her breath as she plunged her body into it. It smeared across her body like cold clumpy wet clay. She shivered in disgust. The air was roiling again with the choking smell of cliffshriek droppings. She could hear Mistress coughing from the stench. After making sure it covered the majority of her back sides, she went over to the desiccated piles, and felt them crumble into dust as she rolled. She couldn’t hold her breath long enough to not breath in the aerated particles. Her lungs screamed from needing to cough.

She felt absolutely _disgusting_ afterwards. But, it was what she needed to do so both her and Mistress could eat and she could finish off that salve. Priorities. _Sigh._ She went back to Mistress -  who was already coated in the cliffshriek droppings - to help with the traps. There were old hooks, or things that could be used as hooks at least, embedded into the stone walls. They each took a rope pile and started threading it through the hooks closest to the entrance. If all else failed, they could use this to trap a cliffshriek long enough to kill it. At least, that was the plan. 

Thessalie kept an eye on Mistress as she worked. She could see that she was beginning to favor the injured paw more now. She shoved aside the concern. The task at hand would see to Mistress’ condition. She just needed to work harder. Wingbeats could be heard clearly now. She finished up the lattice of rope, and darted to the half collapsed hallway to wait with Mistress. The cliffshrieks darted in on claws and wings. Roosting in hollows carved into the rock.They waited for more to come in. A few noticed the ropes laying lax, but then went to their respective hollows. 

With a deep breath to ready herself, she bunched the muscles in her legs and threw herself at the nearest cliffshriek climbing into a hollow. Behind her she heard Mistress doing the same. The cliffshriek in front of her screamed in alarm, her ears rang at the sound. She forced her bodyweight down, pinning the angry animal underneath her. She waited for the right moment, for a leg to be in the right spot. It wouldn’t sit still long enough. She reared back and forced her weight down again, and she yanked. It tried to get away when she leapt back, but it collapsed once the rope reached its end. One leg was trapped in the noose. Relief washed over her briefly.

Behind her, Mistress screamed in rage. Her body moved before she could process the sound. Thessalie slid under flailing wings and yanked on the noose in the hollow. The raging Cliffshriek went to gouge at Mistress’s exposed belly. She growled and raked her claws down the delicate and tender membranes. Shrieks of agony as it rounded towards her. Snapping jaws in her face. She kicked with her back legs, and made contact with the soft underbelly. _Grazed it_. It was stunned only briefly before resuming its attacks. She needed all four paws to hold it back. With a roar Mistress lunged. She slammed the cliffshriek into the wall. Bones cracked, and they weren’t her Mistress’. 

Teeth sank into her shoulder from behind. She tried to reach her attacker, but the teeth only went deeper. Mistress turned and without missing a beat, leapt at her attacker. She shook herself, and could feel a faint trickle of blood going down her shoulder. Thessalie could feel the adrenaline in her body surge again when she saw Mistress and the third cliffshriek tumbling towards the opening in a tangle of wings and claws and teeth. _Panic, desperation. NO!_ She lunged for the rope, and pulled. The lattice formed like magic, and her body bucked from the sudden weight when Mistress and their prey hit it full force. 

It was only after she grunted in pain that Mistress realized where they were. Blood fog visibly clouded her vision, eyes unfocused. Thessalie helped drag the dead cliffshriek away from the edge, and Mistress followed her. 

“You’re bleeding,” Mistress stated, then glowered at the dead cliffshriek.

_Hissing_. The cliffshriek that she was able to trap with the noose was still alive, hiding in the hollow. It was backed to the far wall as close as it could. Mistress glared at it, too, but instead of finishing it off she walked over to the first dead cliffshriek. She paused and stared down at it without speaking for a long moment.

“We need to clean them,” Mistress said, finally.

Thessalie nodded her head. She’d brought one of the metal jugs full of water with their gear. She retrieved it while Mistress caught her breath, and went to work butchering the cliffshriek she’d dragged with her. First, clearing debris off of her claws by carefully pouring into a bowl she’d also brought. After that she went to work carefully skinning it. It’d been awhile since she last had to field dress a carcass to carry. She nearly ruined the hide a few times as she worked her way to the wings. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Mistress watching her work. She stopped at the wings,and worked around the backside. 

Once all but the wings and neck were detached from the hide, she rotated the wings out of the sockets. They came out with satisfying _pops_ as she cut the ligaments and tendons holding them in place. She spared a glance towards Mistress, who was now repeating the steps she did to dress the carcass. It was odd, seeing Mistress so outside her own element. Before, she didn’t have to work nearly so hard to fill her belly, and now here she was claws deep in the guts of a cliffshriek so they could both eat dinner tonight. A twinge of amusement rolled through her. _Has she ever cleaned a carcass before? Probably not in a long time, if ever._

She continued cleaning the carcass, and once she was done, neatly folded the detached wings around it and tied it together with some twine. Mistress was still struggling with her wings. Thessalie walked over and kept her head low to the ground.

“Permission to speak?” she asked.

Mistress grunted as she tried and failed _again_ at the twisting motion, “Permission granted.”

“Cut the parts that attach the wing to the body here, and here, with your claws, then rotate it out,” she said, pointing to the places she meant.

Mistress followed her instructions - _how unusual_ - and the wings popped out with ease. Thessalie felt a glow of pride at seeing how happy Mistress was at getting it. Then, she pointed out where to cut the organs to keep everything clean for transporting back to camp, and which to discard. From there, Mistress was able to finish cleaning her carcass. It was rough, but, it would do. With how things were going, Mistress would have plenty more opportunities to practice. At last, the wings and hide were wrapped neatly around the meat. All that was left was to dispatch the third cliffshriek. 

Thessalie turned and walked towards where the third one lay hissing in the hollow. Mistress walked up beside her, and without flinching nicked the artery on the beast’s neck. Blood bloomed down the neck like a river after a flood. She untied the ropes and dragged the still dying cliffshriek onto the rest of the floor. Once his heart stopped, Mistress took the initiative to clean the carcass herself, leaving Thessalie to watch (and admire) from the sidelines. While Mistress worked she went around retrieving their gear and rolling up the coils of rope to take back down the spire. The sun was at the horizon's edge by the time everything was ready. 

The trip back down was uneventful, aside from slipping on some rocks. It was full night by the time they reached camp. Thessalie looked back up at the roost above their camp and thought, _I doubt they’ll return there to nest. Too much blood and fear scent._ With a sigh, she focused back to showing Mistress how to butcher a prepared carcass. She tried to recall as many of the names for the parts in food terms, and it seemed to help Mistress make sense of what was being done to the meat. But, she remembered very few of what the fancy names were. It was enough, however, for Mistress to find a rhythm in her slicing the meat. 

Mistress used her claws deftly, slicing the meat from bone where needed, then hanging it over the fire that she decided was worth the risk to both dry the meat and render the fat. Thessalie was spending her time trimming the fat from the meat and hides to render. She also wanted to save the bones for making stock, but they had no way to easily transport it, and not enough time to dry it into powder. _Maybe I could set aside some bones to roast in the coals and bring with us in the pots_, she thinks idly, keeping busy. 

A few hours later, the rendered fat is cooling. Thessalie eyes the amount in the pot, _should be enough to mix all the paste into. It’ll make a good salve._ She digs out the clay pot she stored the paste in, and stirs the contents around. Satisfied, she checks the temperature of the fat. It’s warm, but not scalding hot, and still _liquid_. _Good_. She pours it in carefully as Mistress tends the meat. Then, she stirs it. As expected, the plants start to sink towards the bottom, but, as long as she stayed on top of stirring it as it cooled, it should all be evenly distributed. In between stirring she helps Mistress tend the drying meat. Some cuts they left to smoke above the fire, and would pack it in what salt they could spare from their dwindling salt stores. 

Thessalie looks to the stars, and prays that moving camp goes smoothly tomorrow. Not for her, but for Mistress. She could handle what the wilds threw at her without falling, but Mistress? Gods knew that her beloved Mistress needed a break.