Novel
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Her brow furrows. Possess. It is a weighty word, and she is not so certain she cares for the sound of it. Possess. It does not sound like the raven’s penchant for acquisition. A possession of sorts, but for pretty glimmering things. Things that are odd, unusual, capturing the fleeting imagination.
This does not sound like that. Is she a pretty thing to him? A thing to collect and gather? She doesn’t think so, not the way he whispers those words into the air, so painfully halting. Like a fearful thing.
Her skin shimmers as she tilts her head quizzically, as though trying to understand. A flash of blue ripples across the purple, as though his fears race across the canvas of her skin. For a second the sunset of her own natural hue melts across her frame before the colors still once more, a perfect mirror of his.
“Possesssss,” she tastes the word on her tongue, drawing out the last letter into a low hiss. It feels heavy in her mouth. Abruptly, she straightens, her brow clearing as a faint frown touches her lips. “That does not sound free,” she declares in a throaty croak, her dark gaze finally settling on him, questions upon her lips. “Why? What for?”
The raven, for all her curiosity, is a suspicious creature. And Novel no less.
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before.