𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐀 𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊 : JULY EIGHTH, 1987.
Shadows are companion: you learn this early as a creature that hunts. It’s simply necessary to understand the complexities of the night, every angle of it, every inch –– the flashing lights that reach only so far from the viking ship ride which swings as you watch, staring on from where you linger on the outskirts, towards the edge of the water. Where you wait: PREDATOR IN THAT MOONLIT WAVE, feet burying themselves deeper in the earth, body still as a statue. She’d been a great many places this night, in the corners, sneaking through the crowd, following the scent of someone, something of her own kind –– and now, she settles, and allows herself patience in her time to wait. THEY HAD TO HAVE NOTICED THE GLINT OF A HAZEL - WHITE EYE IN THEIR FAMILIAR CROWDS; THOSE BOYS AND THEIR HALF DEAD GIRL, HALF DEAD CHILD. @paraebellum.
