The Dwindling End is here.
I cannot stop the feeders, but I will save as many as I can, one soul at a time until the last light falls.
Humans are violent, desperate creatures. I know well their hatred, their mistrust, and their fear. My purpose in...
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A beat of silence rushes in after my rash statement. Despite the irritation behind the words, I'm as shocked as they are. Beyond the courtesy of declaring my mission, I don't speak to humans. The droning roar of falling water echoes through the strange shelter while ribbons of light dance over the walls and paint geometric patterns on the side of the woman's face.
The smaller one's expression cracks, her whole face changing as the corners of her mouth lift high, revealing gaps between her teeth. "Told you he can talk," she shouted while waving her fist in the air. Her exuberance has the dog on his feet, barking in excitement while he dances around her. Their reactions are confusing, but the older female remains calm.
Her hazel eyes scan me, a corner of her mouth tilted upward, though her lips remain closed until she speaks. "Riley, would you bring in some water? And take Caesar with you."
The small one, Riley, deflates at the suggestion. "Aw, do I have to?" The dog danced around her legs, tail wagging so hard the canine is completely off balance. There is a pitch to her voice that makes my shoulders hunched, but the woman's expression shifts again, a silent command that has the girl spinning on heel with a grumble. "I wanted to watch." But she leaves without further confrontation, the dog a golden burr at her side.
No shouting, no hitting, or any hint of violence between the two. I don't understand the relationship between them or the peaceful atmosphere of this place. The stink of desperation and fear is absent. There isn't a hint of such volatile emotions from the woman in front of me. When she takes a step towards me, I tense, waiting for my purpose, the instincts engrained into my very being to rise.
She pauses, lips pursing. Lifting her hands, she holds them out in front of her, exposing the callouses on her palms and the odd collection of tiny scars that decorate the lengths of her fingers. "Easy, I'm not going to hurt you."
The words are surreal. "You can't hurt me," I automatically answer, but my posture remains tense when she chances another step. I frown, shifting back. Moving refocuses my attention back to my wings, evincing a fresh wave of irritation. "I could hurt you—"
In my brief lapse of attention, the woman's closed the distance between us. Startled, I nearly loose my balance until she reaches to steady me, her other hand carefully peeling back the bandages wrapped around my chest. Her proximity stuns me to inaction, and the lightness of her touch leaves me reeling.
"Amazing. That wound is sealed, though looks like you're going to scar." This close, I can feel and scent her breath, though it is far from the rancid odor of the last human I encountered. Flavored by wild berries. Her deft fingers continue to check my wounds before reaching for my wings.
My fingers wrap around her wrist without thought, a low sound rumbling from my chest. A threatening sound, but the woman doesn't cower away from me.
