@babyfanged
Loneliness.
It’s a feeling she thought she had come to terms with a long time ago. As a Creature of the Night (such a silly moniker the humans came up with) the sounds of the night are all around her, whispers and scents that fill her senses with information, everything she needs to know about the surrounding area and beyond. She remains alone.
Hokulani finds herself in a well known and familiar part of the city. The tiny church tucked into the rising buildings, the maze of narrow streets and alleyways calling to her. She knows the offices and cozy bars where the locals took their time off and knew each other by name. The small city within the larger city. The buildings are old brick, mostly, stacked on top of each other, some touching, others with narrow pathways between them. She knows every apartment. She knows the occupants and their secrets. She watches over them, watches over their lives, yet she always stands alone, always apart.
She lands in the shadows, talons turning into booted feet. It’s one of many rumors invented by humans, the whole thing about vampires turning into bats. Oh, she probably could, if she chose to, but at night, she preferred the form of an owl, at least when she has to be in the air. She emerges from the alleyway, hands tucked into the pockets of her worn leather jacket, which she wore over a scarlet dress. A vampire doesn’t have to feed every day, but it’s been about three for her.
There’s a young man she’s going to meet. The son of a pair of hunters turned rogue. Or something like that. Micah. He stole from blood banks and sold the goods to beings like her. The warehouse is empty, worn down, mostly unused. A cliche meeting spot, but one had to do what they have to do. She enters, unafraid of the possible dangers lurking in the shadows.
“Where are you, kid?”
