03-30-2020, 07:47 PM
Weeks alone, months now, though the young woman has felt solitary for the entirety of her existence. From the moment of her birth she has wondered what it’s like to have a family, what’s it like not to be forsaken- how many breaths would she give to trade him places.
Suffocate.
There are times that it takes her days to remember that she wasn’t, that she did not live and breathe by pure happenstance; there is nothing spontaneous about life. Your name is Jenger, she whispers to herself, she must, how else is she to know? The word is spoken so little, if ever at all, but it had to be- even just the once.
There must be a purpose to all this.
The skies rain down on the lonely dove, drowning out her words as the droplets race to soak the earth; fat dollops of wet to make puddles at her feet.
-splash-
Shifting her weight causes a satisfying melody to grace her ears, they flick in response to the sound- she smiles to herself.
It’s a fleeting expression, short lived by a sudden unfamiliarity, a voice she does not know- not yet. A quiver takes her, uncertainty painting itself against her muscles as easily as the storm. When she faces him, turning towards the sound of his compliments and apologies, she meets him with a foggy, unseeing gaze.
The form he takes, though she can not see it, still causes panic to flood her system. A predatory scent saturates the air, inhaling danger with every rapid breath, if she could manage to move she would. He might lose his words, but she can’t find her feet.
“Who are you?” The words come with haste, fighting off the urge to waver and break.
jenger
words: tags: HTML by Call