She knows so little of fear. Neither of her parents raised her to know its face, to know the taste of it, and she doesn’t feel it now. She feels war drums in the back of her head, something hot and indignant in the back of her throat as the monster approaches her. If only she knew how her mother had reacted when she had faced off against this very thing. Perhaps she would have the strength or the cunning to shift and not just watch him with a guarded glare, her dual-colored eyes shielded, her mouth steely.
Breach lifts her chin a little as he walks closer. “I’m not sure I want to work with someone like you,” and it sounds braver than she feels, more resolute. She straightens her shoulders and all of the creatures that she knows so intimately flee her when she sees the sparks in the back of his mouth. Because there is no creature she knows that would not be set ablaze at the first sign of a spark.
There is nothing she knows to shift into that would protect her from that.
So instead she remains as her self, pale and blue, and she doesn’t let him see her fidget. He presses against her face with his scaled clicks and touches. She hisses a little, the sound angry. “I would give anything if I thought it would help,” she peels her lips back a little and her teeth have shifted into those of the large cats. It is not much, but it is something, and the touch of predator makes her feel more herself.
“But I have a feeling you won’t ask for something that will help.”
A flick of her tail as she looks where eyes should be.
“So my answer is no.”
I want to swim until we both begin to feel the weightlessness sink in