05-27-2020, 03:42 PM
Creeper inwardly cringes as she catches sight of another sporting colors mimicking the daytime sky. She remains stock still as she is approached, her jaded gaze locked on the unassuming face of her visitor…until suddenly… realization dawns on the other’s features and Creeper knows she’s been found. The soft trill of the other woman’s voice caresses Creeper’s ear, causing her flesh to prickle with unease. She is offered a greeting, name, and reassurance all at once. Vita she repeats in her mind, committing the name to memory.
For a fleeting moment she considers fleeing, but quickly dismisses the thought as she is neither fast, nor winged. If Vita chose to catch her, Creeper would be caught. She curses her lame leg, and her parents, and the powers that be who created her as such a wretch. A flight animal who could not flee. An easy target.
”It’s….nice…to meet you, Vita.” she offers politely, although she does not yet feel the words she says. Strangers were rarely nice to Creeper. ”My name is…” she hesitates, lips pressing closed momentarily before deciding on ”well….it doesn’t matter. You’re welcome to call me whatever you like.”
The painted woman draws nearer, and Creeper forces herself not to back away. Instead she takes an odd step forward, drawing out of the dark greenery and into the open. She may as well not delay the inevitable. If she were going to be given pain she may as well not delay the inevitable. Delaying had never spared her flesh or her mind.
For a fleeting moment she considers fleeing, but quickly dismisses the thought as she is neither fast, nor winged. If Vita chose to catch her, Creeper would be caught. She curses her lame leg, and her parents, and the powers that be who created her as such a wretch. A flight animal who could not flee. An easy target.
”It’s….nice…to meet you, Vita.” she offers politely, although she does not yet feel the words she says. Strangers were rarely nice to Creeper. ”My name is…” she hesitates, lips pressing closed momentarily before deciding on ”well….it doesn’t matter. You’re welcome to call me whatever you like.”
The painted woman draws nearer, and Creeper forces herself not to back away. Instead she takes an odd step forward, drawing out of the dark greenery and into the open. She may as well not delay the inevitable. If she were going to be given pain she may as well not delay the inevitable. Delaying had never spared her flesh or her mind.
creeper
you can show me the light, but I will always love the dark