#wndybyrd

[banditnate]

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[alanaanew]

you cannot leave a mark. — Wendy, somewhat fearful / uncertain.

FLASHBACK TIME !

3 years earlier...

Once every 28 suns, the moon would become a beautiful, white sphere in the sky, looming over the island in its full glory. To some, it meant nothing more than the passage of time, but to those who knew better, it was an omen.

The Wendy-Bird, with her honeyed locks and warm smile, was the former.

***

The light of the full moon bounced off the waves of the lagoon, dragging jagged white lines across their tips like a chain-link fence.

A gnawing hunger rumbled through Alana's body. She cradled her stomach, breathing deeply as she tried to ignore the hollow ache of emptiness from within. It was like his every time. She would feel it coming days before the moon reached its zenith. It would start small, a headache here and there, slight trouble focusing on her current craft projects. Then, it would progress. She would become lethargic, her limbs and tail growing heavier by the day--until finally, the full moon rose high in the sky and loomed over Neverland, and she was powerless but to succumb to its whims like the ocean tide.

Speaking of....

The redhead lifted her heavy head from where she lay on the large red rock, perking up at a particularly delicious scent. Sweet and warm and decadent. She allowed herself a long, deep inhale, her mouth salivating at the mere essence. The sudden cacophony of haunting, lilting wails confirmed it: they had a GUEST.

She turned her head away, only for her gaze to drift back to the delightful fragrance. It appeared to be a young girl, long hair cascading down her back in gentle waves. Was that...?

Soft, supple skin concealed a heartbeat that pounded deliciously in her ears, drowning out the cries of the other merfolk. It didn't matter who she was. Her vision narrowed, a vignette around the edges of her form as the clawed hand of another yanked the girl deep into the waters.

She snapped. Everything else faded away as the starving monster in her took over.

When she regained hold of her consciousness a moment later, the girl's face was mere inches from hers. A look of pure terror written on the girl's face: bulging, unblinking blue eyes stared back at her in horror, lips trembling at the sight of her.

It was Wendy. Peter's Wendy.

With wide eyes, she realized her claw was wrapped tightly around the girl's frail wrist, nails digging into her flesh. She let out a gasp and dropped it like it burned her, yanking her hand back to her side like a parent would a misbehaving child.

And she'd been SO close to not giving in this time, too..

A quick scan of the girl's face told her she was frightened, but not fatally injured. That was a close one. That could have been bad--but thankfully, it wasn't.

With a resolved sigh, she turned away and began to swim away,

Behind her, Peter's voice bellowed in the distance. It seems the girl had been saved. For now.

Alana's belly growled in protest. She needed to feed. Maybe she could find a wicked sailor somewhere to feast on and try again with her fast next month. At least then it would be someone a little more deserving of such a cruel fate.

As she made her way toward Skull Rock with her head hung low, she thought: Sorry, little Wendy Bird.

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue prompts || ACCEPTING

[banditnate]

“ you wanna know what your problem is? ”  

A bark of laughter escapes him. To think that someone so weak--and so new--could tell him what to do.

"Oh, I'd love to." His lips curl upward, eyes sparkling with superiority as they lock onto hers--gray on blue; a wave of fog overtaking the sea.

He leans in, thrusting out his chest in an unspoken challenge. She has the sharpest bite out of any of the Boys on the island, but standing over her like this, she feels no more a threat to him than Pacifist Sawyer or that good-for-nothing Curly.

"Enlighten me, Mother," he taunts, raising a slow, deliberate eyebrow. "What is my problem?"

question prompts || accepting