used to have a lot, but i got more now, adna

[adna]

and if you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones
‘cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs

She hasn’t caught her breath since she saw her father.

It is trapped in her throat and under her tongue and she is dizzy all of the time. Her vision, for the first time in her life, begins to click between her normal vision and that of the predator—the bodies around her turning into heat maps, turning into prey. Her fangs ache with the need for release and she feels a wild thrashing in her chest, a need to be free, a need to run, a need to find some release for the bitter hurt.

All of it leaves her a little wild-eyed, her edges sharp, her path wandering.

She doesn’t go home, but she doesn’t go anywhere else either.

Today, nowhere is the meadow and she walks through it without any sort of clear destination. The rain leaves her mane curled and clinging to her slick scales, the mud crawling up her mahogany legs although she doesn’t feel it. Adna wants to run but her legs feel as heavy as her heart and, as with all things, the duality of her feelings nearly rends her apart. She wants to flee but remains anchored. She wants to fight but cannot swallow past the guilt. She wants to rage but drowns in her sorrow, her chest heaving.

She cannot tell if she is lucky or cursed to run into the scaled boy, draconic and angelic in the same breath. She cannot tell when she looks up, her body but a breath away from him. She was by herself and she is suddenly surrounded by him, his scent flooding over her. Adna inhales sharply and takes a step back, the rain heavier now although she is not bothered by it. In some ways, it enhances that feral, sharp beauty of her. In others, it leaves her muddled and confused. Girlish and feminine and serpentine.

“Oh,” her voice is tight, that breath still caught in her chest. “I didn’t see you.”

Perhaps I shouldn’t have, she wants to say. Wants to keep going.

Perhaps you can save me, in the next breath, the next thought.

adna

we're setting fire to our insides for fun
collecting pictures from a flood that wrecked our home

@[ophanim]