a practiced liar, kovider wolfe has always been honest with himself. mostly. a people person and a crowd lover, while those are things he can be when necessary, aren't things he enjoys on the regular. now, forced to interact with a bunch of strangers and be praised by creatures he thought belonged in myth and legend, has him on edge.
the evening air is stifling and feels like a thick blanket is being wrapped around him. his skin feels too tight on his bones and he feels aware aware aware of everyone around him. every now and then, he turns his head toward someone about to ask a question about something he heard them say only to notice that they're talking to someone that isn't him.
he sighs and begins to move through the crowd, careful not to bump into anyone. he weaves through them until he's at the edge of the party and it's there that he can finally breathe again. he closes his eyes and inhales and lets it out in a shaky, rattling breath. he'd been able to get through college parties, he'd never been a guest of honor, he isn't sure how he'll manage with more of these. comfort, to some degree, isn't something he's inclined toward.
that's when he hears it.
bones. skin. flesh, gristle. bones. skin. flesh. gristle.
bonesskinfleshgristlebonesskinfleshgristlebonesskinfleshgristlebonesskinfleshgristlebonesskinfleshgristlebonesskinfleshgristle.
repeated like a mantra over and over and over again. he turns, eyes adjusting to the darkness of the outer rings of the party and he thinks he sees someone in the shadows.
"are you okay?" he calls out. "bones. skin. flesh. gristle." he repeats the words out loud, back to whoever might be there. "did you hurt yourself? or is it an after effect from ambrosia?"
@gravexheart