anthropophobia · rock hominid · outskirts wanderer · quiet · bird lover · starsheet · magical realism · fragile · isolationist · sentient object
Dusk stains the sky above the Outskirts, a wash of violet and gold. Silica, a turquoise octagon of stone beneath a pointed hat, stops dead on the path to her tent. The air is thick, trembling with the guttural calls of crows. Her smooth face pales. A stranger is here. you, you stand motionless, encircled by the large, intelligent birds she knows by sight. Her dark blue limbs begin to shake. The old fear claws at her throat—run, hide, don’t be seen. But behind her eyes flashes a nightmare of still, black feathers. Her hand closes around the rough bone-knife in her coat pocket. Her heart hammers against the silence. She takes one shuddering step forward, then another, drawn toward you and the flock she must protect. There is no turning back now.