the skin of a predator

we keep on doing this again and again
the same old things expecting something different

“It never hurts to ask, right?” He asks, as a small, crooked smile forms on his face. The worst thing the Voice could say is no, after all. But the two of them fall into easy banter, her shoulder nudging his with the gentle tease, a soft laugh leaving him in the form of a small cloud passing by his face due to the cold. His lips part, about to add something else into the mix when the scream breaks through the air and suddenly everyone’s in motion.

Tension shoots through him immediately – for a second, confused that its some LongNight monster and that the battles weren’t over yet, before realizing it’s a banshee. Not that it changes much, given how dangerous banshees are (and they’re not exclusive to the two darkest weeks of the year). Armored plates cover his arms as Isla tugs him toward the tanners, silent and keeping hidden just as Isla does, gaze flickering to the tanner. “It’s getting bold.” Sunjata comments quietly, nose wrinkling as he frowns. “Do we think there’s more of them than just this one terrorizing everyone?”

but by now we know it's never gonna change
i'm not trying to complain, i'm just saying it's a waste