When the darkness disappeared, when the light came back with a sudden snap, when the world was too bright and too anew - the shadows had to find somewhere to live. Draco remembers flinching inward, ducking into Dove and closing his eyes so tightly they felt as if they might burst. One startled breath in and he snapped frightened, crimson eyes open to the realization that he will have to adjust to a new life once again.
But when the darkness disappeared, it had to disappear somewhere.
The shadows take over slowly, as is their nature. Litotes taught Draco that magic nor night rushes, it creeps. The demon can feel that creep: up his throat, down his spine, around his legs. The sensation either manifests in extreme irritation or vicious mania, with symptoms of restless muscles and a biting tongue. Tonight, he can't quite catch his breath and his skin twitches involuntarily.
The physical signs started with the eyes. No longer does Draco have pupils, just two glistening and eerie red irises. Then his pristine coat began to fall, a process still itching and patchy, with glittering black scales where his fur once was. And now - now, fangs are bursting forth, ripping his blunt teeth from their places in his mouth. Blood pours from his lips and he growls as the teeth shine porcelain with their newness. A hiss, cat-like and unearthly, spills forth from gritted fangs and pursed lips.
The changing makes him hypersensitive, and maybe Draco would not have noticed Cressida had his new body been fully formed. But he is wickedly agitated and the sound of her small movements in the shadows makes him furious. The demon stalks forward, head low, blood still trickling from his freshly grown canines.
"Come out, darkling," he murmurs, glowing eyes slowly making out more and more of Cressida's black frame.
"Or run," an added whisper.
@[cressida] :-)))))))))))))