Post by Novella Sandler on Aug 5, 2006 22:47:18 GMT
They fly alone on Loiosh's wings.
Novella does not like being in her own body any more. The taste of blood on her tongue and the feel of fangs which are not there do not bother Loiosh. He is a hunter, and Darin is a hunter, and Novella doesn't know who she is anymore.
She keeps her eyes fixed on the heavens, because there is no judgment in sky. Looking down there is always the urge to bend her wings back in a parachute, talons extended in front of her small body, and to dive, sinking claws into her prey -- whether it be mouse, or rat, or human being -- before she hits the ground.
And to dip her snout to the warm flesh and tear out the beating heart while it is still warm...
She closes her eyes and lets Darin take over. Loiosh is hungry, and she can feel it, and that makes it all the worse.
Slipping away.
She falls back down to earth, moving seamlessly into Darin's body. She is curled up in a ball, and through the slits of sleep-addled eyes she can see her Muggle parents standing over her own body as it lies, prone, on her bedroom floor. The murmur worriedly, and she thinks her mother is crying as she makes the sign of the cross against her chest, and Novella can smell the blood in their veins. She cannot bring herself to open her own eyes, to sit up, pushing against the rough carpet with uncalloused hands, to smile, and brush the stray hairs from her face, and to tell them that everything is alright.
Darin sighs in exasperation, but Novella doesn't listen. She watches her own body perform the operations she had imagined, but her words come out as more of a growl, and now there is no doubting her mother’s tears.
She flicks her tail in front of her eyes, and tries to believe that she cares.
Novella does not like being in her own body any more. The taste of blood on her tongue and the feel of fangs which are not there do not bother Loiosh. He is a hunter, and Darin is a hunter, and Novella doesn't know who she is anymore.
She keeps her eyes fixed on the heavens, because there is no judgment in sky. Looking down there is always the urge to bend her wings back in a parachute, talons extended in front of her small body, and to dive, sinking claws into her prey -- whether it be mouse, or rat, or human being -- before she hits the ground.
And to dip her snout to the warm flesh and tear out the beating heart while it is still warm...
She closes her eyes and lets Darin take over. Loiosh is hungry, and she can feel it, and that makes it all the worse.
Slipping away.
She falls back down to earth, moving seamlessly into Darin's body. She is curled up in a ball, and through the slits of sleep-addled eyes she can see her Muggle parents standing over her own body as it lies, prone, on her bedroom floor. The murmur worriedly, and she thinks her mother is crying as she makes the sign of the cross against her chest, and Novella can smell the blood in their veins. She cannot bring herself to open her own eyes, to sit up, pushing against the rough carpet with uncalloused hands, to smile, and brush the stray hairs from her face, and to tell them that everything is alright.
Darin sighs in exasperation, but Novella doesn't listen. She watches her own body perform the operations she had imagined, but her words come out as more of a growl, and now there is no doubting her mother’s tears.
She flicks her tail in front of her eyes, and tries to believe that she cares.