HENRY
a knife twists at the thought that
I should fall short of the mark
I should fall short of the mark
He floated through the air on strong wings, letting the currents of the wind take him with them. Eagle eyes blinked down over the vast grove of apple trees, honing in on the subtle movements of a rabbit down below their canopy. The predator in him was responding before the human in him could think, soaring down between a gap in the trees' reaching branches. The tips of them brushed through his feathers but, he was unperturbed. The rabbit darted away and he swooped through the brush after it.
That was, until the sudden appearance of a figure blocked his vision. He careened out of the way just in time, the eagle shift squawking in his alarm. He landed as a man, as himself again, and whirled around to see who was there.
Only, they weren't really there. The ghost resembled his friend, a friend from a long time ago... whose end had been untimely. Yet, even knowing better, he found himself speechless, felt as if his feet were made of stone. Memories of that time, of that age, of that person, flowed through his mind.
"What's wrong, Henry?" the voice was haunting, echoing with each syllable. It sent a shiver of goosebumps up his arm. "Aren't you happy to see me?"
He didn't know what to say - or what to do. He knew it wasn't real. Asking how or why or what - or telling him anything... it would mean nothing. He clenched his jaw, muscles fluttering with the action. Then, he heard it; a real voice, hoarse and feminine. He cocked his head away and looked around in search of the source, realizing that they sounded distressed.
"How long has it been? Nine, ten years?" the ghost pressed, stepping forwards.
"Fuck!" the swear echoed through the trees and Henry moved away.
"Go back to wherever you came from," he snapped at the ghost as it pressed closer, swatting at it with his hand. He wasn't entirely sure of its intent, whether it was good or bad. So he moved away and morphed back into his eagle shift. Broad, dark wings carried him away from his past - and whatever else awaited him back there - as he searched the treeline.
There. Through the trunks, beyond the wilted undergrowth, was a girl. She lay with her fist against the ground but, otherwise, she seemed unendangered. He slowed down until he was hovering. As he lowered himself, he shifted back. His feet hit the ground with a thump!
"Hey, are you okay?" He leaned down beside her and tilted his head at her, his eyes wide with concern, "are you hurt?"
That was, until the sudden appearance of a figure blocked his vision. He careened out of the way just in time, the eagle shift squawking in his alarm. He landed as a man, as himself again, and whirled around to see who was there.
Only, they weren't really there. The ghost resembled his friend, a friend from a long time ago... whose end had been untimely. Yet, even knowing better, he found himself speechless, felt as if his feet were made of stone. Memories of that time, of that age, of that person, flowed through his mind.
"What's wrong, Henry?" the voice was haunting, echoing with each syllable. It sent a shiver of goosebumps up his arm. "Aren't you happy to see me?"
He didn't know what to say - or what to do. He knew it wasn't real. Asking how or why or what - or telling him anything... it would mean nothing. He clenched his jaw, muscles fluttering with the action. Then, he heard it; a real voice, hoarse and feminine. He cocked his head away and looked around in search of the source, realizing that they sounded distressed.
"How long has it been? Nine, ten years?" the ghost pressed, stepping forwards.
"Fuck!" the swear echoed through the trees and Henry moved away.
"Go back to wherever you came from," he snapped at the ghost as it pressed closer, swatting at it with his hand. He wasn't entirely sure of its intent, whether it was good or bad. So he moved away and morphed back into his eagle shift. Broad, dark wings carried him away from his past - and whatever else awaited him back there - as he searched the treeline.
There. Through the trunks, beyond the wilted undergrowth, was a girl. She lay with her fist against the ground but, otherwise, she seemed unendangered. He slowed down until he was hovering. As he lowered himself, he shifted back. His feet hit the ground with a thump!
"Hey, are you okay?" He leaned down beside her and tilted his head at her, his eyes wide with concern, "are you hurt?"
middle of adventure
such a perfect place to start
such a perfect place to start
