Smother
Oh, but dear, death is inevitable.
When you come from a land that age does not kill you, one may look at it that way. However the land is littered with demons that can transform from prey to predator, that can manipulate physical matter by blinking, that can spark a fire by the flick of a tail. Death is much more of a reality now than it ever will be in a moral world.
And at least in a moral world, you can choose to go humanely.
I bake myself in luxury on a dark mahogany tree when the smell of unfamiliarity wafts onto my fluctuating tongue. Hiss. I am not welcoming of strangers, of those who do not smell like home. I don’t appreciate their trespassing or their unknown intentions.
Only a fool would be nonchalant about an alien.
She seems harmless enough.
They always do, Turkish.
She is a female, small.
Easy prey, Turkish.
I refuse to indulge in any controversial meat.
Your spark has dulled in the light of the sun.
Ours always will, Smother.
Hmph.
I slink down the ebony trunk, my body contracting and squeezing to hold myself to the wood. To the unknown I seem eerie, but elegant. Every movement holds a purpose, every inch I move must then follow all eleven feet of me.
By the time I reach the ground, my body is already pulling and squeezing itself into a more respectable frame. As I have gotten the hang of my transformation, my accuracy and timing has improved as well. No more long shifts and wasting my time, I have become a master of my own trait.
I emerge from heavy green bush and my blue eyes set on no longer only one stranger, but a familiar face as well. We haven’t had the pleasure to speak, she runs in a far more friendly circle than I, but nonetheless we are sisters and that must not be taken lightly.
After all, Lagertha wanted someone worthy and I can only be worthy if I play nice with the neighbourhood.
“Hello,” I nod to the fellow amazonian before my warmth turns into a bitter cold. I watch the stranger, “a little bold to wander into a kingdom without permission or invitation, wouldn’t you think?”
I hear the soft twitch of blades as my fellow friend, my daemon, my familiarity wanders to my presence and begins to slink up my leg. He has become a priority to me, a permanent company and his body does nothing but warm my interior. To others, he is a twelve foot python contracting around my neck. However to me, he is a very versatile scarf.
“A little kingdom respect goes a long way.”
