Anastasia is a killer, but she does not consider herself a murderer. She does not have the guilt and shame that came with such a word—she does not have the conscience to support it. Her father had taught her how to take joy in spilling life and the freedom in power, and she reveled in it as all wild, feral things did. She appreciated the skill it took to hunt, and she found there was satisfaction in the way bones could break in her mouth if she applied the right amount of pressure in the right angle. And she did not feel guilt that she often left the bodies behind, blood slowly draining from them.
She was not made normal.
She did not hunger for grass or wheat or flesh. She did not hunger for anything. In the past, there were times when she had forced herself to try it—driven by curiosity rather than the drumming beats of a needy stomach. She had forced herself to chew. Forced her jaw to work through the hide and skin. Forced herself to swallow and had not liked the way that it had hit her empty, useless stomach. Had not like the way she had felt afterward—full and unnatural—the meat sitting there without purpose.
So there were times when she ate, but she did not like it.
Today is not one of those days. Today, she is enjoying the meadow, jumping through portals and bouncing from edge to edge. In these moments, she is distinctly child-like, yellow eyes bright with amusement. She does not stop until she sees him, and like anything that drew her attention, she moved toward him. She threw up portal after portal and jumped in a zig-zag pattern toward him, following no logical trail.
It was not until she was several yards away that she paused, inky body stilling for a second, eyes narrowing at the sun that beat down. “Bad taste,” she finally calls, shaking her head. “Sun is bad.” She wrinkles her nose at it, exaggerating her features to get the point across. She motions to the shadows that are beginning to swirl at his feet, feeling herself drawn to them. “They know.” She nods again. “They know.”
like the moon, we borrow our light
{I am nothing but a shadow in the night}