wintersday (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wintersday) wrote2012-07-04 01:09 pm
wintersday) wrote2012-07-04 01:09 pm
A dream. One that hungers.
You go still. Her eyes, for a moment, catch the light, and behind her smile lurks the flash of teeth. You are reminded of striped fur through verdant leaves, and the feeling of being watched as prey is watched.
Then she shakes herself. She makes a gesture like a word being unwritten, and something in the Neath is altered. Maybe it’s you. Maybe–
A fleeting image: a man’s face, shaped by weariness. Silent, soulless, hollow.
(Possibilities. Could there have been others? There might still be.)
The memory fades like a ripple, leaving only the sense of something once-chained, now free.
Then she shakes herself. She makes a gesture like a word being unwritten, and something in the Neath is altered. Maybe it’s you. Maybe–
A fleeting image: a man’s face, shaped by weariness. Silent, soulless, hollow.
(Possibilities. Could there have been others? There might still be.)
The memory fades like a ripple, leaving only the sense of something once-chained, now free.