Speak But One Rhyme || Agents of Chaos
As Tink walked from The Hollow, she passed through the park. Dusk was settling over the town, lighting it in hues of orange and pink and blue and even though it was Swynlake and there were always stories or werewolves and vampires that prowled at night it wasn’t quite dark enough yet for everyone to be indoors. There were still children playing and laughing, people walking dogs, and others taking nightly strolls or jogs. It reminded Tink that she needed to take her own dog out when she made it back to her flat. There was no telling what kind of mischief that Bowser would get up to without her there. He was as bad as her most times, needing constant attention and affection.
A gust of wind tousled her hair and instinctively she turned her face towards it. The seasons were changing. She could feel it on the wind current (and also every time she entered the Hollow as various talents prepared for spring) and it excited her. Winter was drawing to an end, thankfully, and soon Spring would arrive and bring with it a whole new season of growth.
Tink hoped that she’d have her first prototype for her wings ready. How she longed to spread her wings in the sun and feel that current lift her up and up and up. Instinctively, she removed the jacket that she’d adorned earlier that morning and rolled her shoulders. If she thought hard enough she could even feel her wings sprout from her back and feel the wind move through them.
Oh the scowl that formed on her lips when she remembered that those were just phantom pangs. That part of her was missing.
Tugging her jacket back on, she pulled it closer around her as she marched quicker through the park, adamant that she get home quickly for that attention and affection she so desperately needed from her best friend.
Only a few short moments later did her footsteps falter, her arms curling around her waist slightly as gooseflesh pimpled her skin.
“Who’s there?”
@trickster-knownas-pan
