It was hard to pick who Karen hated most today. The madwoman, scrabbling around her griffin form with a cold measuring as if she was an animal? The huge guard with freezing eyes and an itchy trigger finger as if she was a monster? Or the horrid chained beast who had lashed out at her friend and how many others?
The guard had said children. Plural. Logan alone would have been bad enough, she could picture the blood on her talons, the ease with which he had crumpled. But beyond that, her mind struggled, flashing through terror, flight, and disparate scenes. Who else had she hurt? The dragons? Ollie? It was no wonder she was chained down like a dangerous horror.
But why not chain her up as a five foot two girl? No matter how fit she was, a human was far less dangerous.
Unless… they didn’t know she was human? Karen recoiled, a surprised chirp escaping this ridiculous beak as her mind raced.
“Hey- steady, there’s a good girl,” the crazy lady chimed.
The griffin shot a glare, then slowly, carefully, extended one claw, one talon, and dragged it across the floor.
“She said steady!” The guard set a hand to their visor, the other pulling a gun from a holster. Karen winced, carefully moving only that claw, to add another line, then another, scoring out a word.
VEIL!
“Urgh.” The guard grunted, “Ma’am she’s literate.”
“And cooperative- what a good girl!” The lady circled around close. Too close. She was begging to be punched by a wing. “So clever- you want to talk, hmm? Well, I’m almost done, I just need to measure your beak- hold still and open.”
No, Karen couldn’t even shake her head, beak held open. She couldn’t take veil- she was veiled! Maddie had mentioned that mixing potions could be disastrous- if she took human veil then… she didn’t even know what might happen.
The creep poured something horrid down her throat, “There’s your Veil! Oh, I’ll get the office ready, good girl- May, grab her a gown!”
She darted out of wing-reach and up the stairs as Karen screamed and gagged. No, no, why did she have to do the worst possible thing?! Couldn’t birds vomit stuff up?
Yet it was already too late. A chill enveloped her, and her talons began to warp before her stinging eyes. Black scales ebbed into grey gunge, and a glance back revealed the same across her flanks- feathers softened and ran together, her wings drooped, and her limbs collapsed under her. Inside and outside, her body ran like clay, giving up such foolish structures like bones and organs. Matter was matter. Her beak collapsed, mandibles merging as her breath ended, and panic filled her mind. What did mixing Veils do?! Was it lethal? Would she be trapped as something else? A malformed mass of meat?
She couldn’t even fight it, the freezing numbness left her as nothing, naught but slop and darkness as her eyes could open no longer. Wings and tail were shunted into the dwindling mass, digits pulled out, and icy powers made a cats cradle of her innards.
Yet then came a gasp. Her skin tensed and set, muscles seized and bones crunched into place, hair tickled her neck and a breath broke through lips.
“Gwwaaaargh,” Karen wretched, slammed her talons down, and blinked at ten fingers covered in scabs and sweat. The rest of her nerves confirmed similar reports- cold, painful and damp. Four limbs ached and hair tickled her ears. Human! She shoved off the heavy collar and chain. Human! She pulled on a hospital gown, fitting arms through the sleeves. She was human!
And four orange eyes were glowering at her. Karen stumbled, then cautiously rose onto her hind legs, as she found the big chestnut griffin glaring from its- from her- nest on the upper tier. A second, cat sized ball of fluff with tufted ears, peered at her with soft chirps.
“Oh. You’re a mom.” Karen breathed. The mother looked even larger now, and much more territorial. The gash in her thigh ached as she slowly backed along the wall, found the door and chapped on it with blunt knuckles.
Immediately, the guard threw it open, dragged her out, and slammed it locked in barely a second.
“Good. Hold still a second.” They huffed, stepping behind her. “No funny business.”
“Wh- what are you doing?!”
“Tying the back closed- stop turning.”
“Stop getting behind m-” She twisted to see the visor open, those scathing eyes locking her joints in place. Then the guard flicked it shut, and tied closed the gown’s neck. It felt too tight, too close.
“N-... no fair,” This time the paralysis ended quickly, but she shuddered all the more. “What- who are you!?”
“Benign.” She frogmarched her down a concrete corridor, stained with old machinery, scents of animals like a zoo, and heavy metal doors. And a simple wooden door, that revealed a small stained office with a flimsy desk and chairs.
The old woman had pulled on small spectacles, her cardigan neater over her hazmat suit, and shuffled a sheath of papers. “Ah, thankyou May. There’s a good girl, can you take a seat?”
“No- what the hell is this?!” Karen scanned around- what kind of kidnappers decorated an office? “Who are you? What do you want? Why did you give me Veil!? I’m human, I almost died!”
“Oh, shush shush shush, sit down, sit down. You’re fine. You’re not really human, this is just a Veil spell to let us talk. You’ll be back to your old self in an hour.” She tapped her watch, then pulled a lanyard from her pocket, “My name is Doctor Erika Hill, I’m with OAR, we’re here to help.”
“Oar?”
“The Office of Anomalous Re… Research or Registration, which did they settle on, May?” Hill shrugged without waiting for a response, “Anyway, we’re doing both. We are registering you here, and asking lots of questions to get to know you. Okey-dokey?”
“No, listen to me dammit- I’m not a mystic!” She span, one hand on the chair, and glowered at the guarded doorway.
“Class Cs- even feral griffons- still count as mystics.” The guard announced coldly, one hand on her helmet.
“Shush, shush, let’s just try the questions and get through them, alright?” Hill flicked a pen up, tried to catch it, failed and picked up a new pen. “C-394. What is your name, young gryphon?”
It was like talking to a brick wall. She tensed, fingers scratching the chair, and played along, “Karen. Emily. Thomson. Without a p. So you didn’t kidnap me?”
“No. You needed medical attention. Date of bir- hatching?”
“I was born. Twelfth December, uh, 1993”
“Hm, different breed perhaps, or incorrect…” Hill muttered, “Do you know where you were born?”
“Sandpoint Hospital. Idaho. USA.”
“Parent’s names?”
“Sylvia and Ernest Thomson.”
“Oh for god’s sake!” A heavy fist slammed down on the table as the guard was over her, breathing furiously beneath the visor. “These are all the details of the other child from Ranelk. She’s gloating in your face!”
“Other child?! Excuse me, I’m sixteen!”
“She was doing the form, why can’t she just do the registration form...” Hill mumbled, rubbing her forehead wearily, “Fine, gryphon, Karen, what are your questions? You seem confused.”
“Gosh really?” Karen growled, “Why am I here?! Why was I a griffin? What did she mean children?”
“Like you don’t know...” The guard hissed.
“I literally don’t, you bloody neanderthal!”
Hill sighed and shuffled her papers, “Let’s see… on the morning of fifth October, disturbance in Ranelk town, you were spotted… a child, Karen Thomson missing… Ranelk Anomalous Settlement Area, you injured a child called Logan Tohaken … then, about an hour later you were found hunting sheep at a farm, and were shot by the owner. After you fell unconscious, we managed to retrieve you here for medical attention. Does that make sense?”
Karen’s heart leapt. “He’s only injured? I didn’t kill him?”
“You failed. But you’re still going to tell us what you did with the missing girl, monster. You’re not messing with Ranelk again.” The guard was suddenly beside her, looming and furious as ever.
“I am her- just use your freak eyes and look at my fa-” Karen turned, only to find herself staring into blue eyes reflected in the helmet.
She recoiled, and her reflection did the same, but it wasn't her reflection, she shouldn’t have blue eyes, she shouldn't have freckles, she shouldn’t have mousy brown hair. She screamed, and overbalanced, tumbling back into the corner, feeling the unfamiliar features with her own two hands. “Why!? That’s not me! Why amn’t I me!? Who am I?!”
Yet there weren't any answers. Everything was just alien. She felt her breathing struggle, tears clouded her vision. Dimly she was aware of an argument between them, of Hill flailing her arms all around in broad gesticulations, then the guard vanished and slammed the door shut.
Silence reigned. She sobbed.
Then the old woman sat down on the floor across from her, picked up a fallen pen and her paper.
“Address?”
“W-what?”
“There’s a field for address. Where did you last live?”
“W-why are you still doing that trash?! You’ve already decided I’m a liar!”
“No. I’m not good with people. Lies. Drama. I’m a vet.” The old woman frowned, “I can’t answer your questions, I’ve sent B9 to get help. But if you’re honest then, we’ll get this form done, and if not I wasted my time. Address?”
“Sure… Seven Birch Street, Ranelk.” Then school, then sibling, then grades. It was easy questions, definite answers in her sea of confusion and Karen held tight to them like a raft. She was Karen. Logan was alive.
They had reached blood type when the door finally reopened, revealing the guard and two strangers.
The first seemed like another guard- at the very least he wore an armoured vest, but otherwise casual clothes over a copper muscular form. His smile oozed confidence, long black curls tangled back in a cloud behind him, “Ah, Erikaaaa! Whatchu doin’ on the floor?”
“Maybe she’s fallen and can’t get up.” His companion could have leapt from the pages of a fashion magazine, a slim elegant woman in a charcoal suit. Rippling black locks were tinged with purple highlights, and there was a youthful grin to her features, “Don’t worry dear, Doctor Verity is here to help.”
Hill arched a brow wearily, “Oh. Did you acquire a PHD overnight, Verity?”
“Please, that’s just a formality, Mrs Hill. We both know I’ve earned it.” She perched on the desk, folding long legs neatly as she considered Karen. “Who’s this little ragamuffin then?”
“C394, the griffon from RASA.” The man chuckled, teeth bared in amusement, even as Karen tensed. “Quite the wild one eh? Killing sheep and stealing kids?”
“Well, apparently not. She claims to be the missing child, under the effects of… well, your field.” Dr Hill stood up, “Can you examine that claim?”
“My field? It’s magic, and it is rather tricky. So tricky that you’d need someone incredibly well educated to do what you ask- someone you actually respect as a mage.” The woman goaded.
“Oh, we’re waitin’ for Jerome?” The dark skinned guard chuckled.
“Shut up, Noah.” Verity snapped. “You’re here for brawn, not brains.”
“Enough- there’s a subject here needing aid. If you are so mature, then mayhaps focus on that, and stop posturing!” Hill demanded, the old clunky vet glowering at the young witch.
“I was just getting to that.” Verity sighed, slipped off the desk, and kneeled gently before Karen. “Good evening. Is what she claims true? You’re not a griffin?”
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“No- at least, I’m not meant to be. This isn’t my face either,” Karen shuddered at the crowding, the people so close. Don’t show weakness. Her tears wanted to unleash more tears, but she set her face and grit her teeth. “Prove I’m true. Please. I didn’t kill- or steal- anyone.”
“I can try- but you have to behave, otherwise that big damn cat,” She nodded to her beefy companion, “Is likely to make a mess protecting me.”
“I will.”
Her cool hand settled on Karen’s scalp, rubbing it gently, “Be aware, this will hurt.”
Then blood squirmed, electricity zapped and fluid burned within her head. Karen hissed, fingers clawing and scrabbling as noise churned in her skull, organs creaking, lodes firing, cells splitting and bridges forming.
Her vision blurred, and for an instant she fancied she could see the ocean of blood of her dream, scattered with broken helix chains, rotten fragments of egg and a breeze rifling through it.
Oh? She couldn’t talk, she couldn’t breathe, she felt the presence squirming through her consciousness like a worm through an apple.
A fear spell? The Bad Egg?
Snap them? End them! Karen urged, end the nightmare, end the curse!
She slammed her beak into the table, tail pinged painfully off the wall, and felt her wings hit the ceiling. There was no pain to the change, it was as abrupt as waking from a dream, but the pain of impact was enough to make her shrie-
“Quiet, little chick.” A hand clamped her beak shut, and the dark skinned guard met her gaze. She growled, feeling her chest thrum at the sudden challenge- but her beak wouldn’t open. The man’s grip was a vice. “Easy there. Yer fine. Verity, y’allright?”
“Just peachy. Please step off me, Karen.” A voice came from below, and Karen gingerly clambered off the prone lady.
“Verity- what do you call this?” Hill squawked across the room and Karen echoed the sentiment.
“I purged the spells from her system. One Veil spell, one Fear spell. You’ll be feeling braver now, Karen, but please don’t attack Noah. He doesn’t know how to play nice.” Verity stood and dusted off her suit, “No sign of any curse, she’s a mundane griffon now. But her identity is definitely that of the missing human girl.”
“Excuse me? Why? How?”
“No idea.” The beautiful witch shrugged as she opened the door, “I never claimed to be a Professor in magic. Anyway, important things to do, have fun registering, ciao!”
“Seeya!” Noah waved, “What do you want done with her, Erika?”
“If she would fall down some stairs the- oh, Karen. Can you take her back to F and get her some food? I need some time to figure out where this goes.” Hill rubbed her forehead and gave her a weary look, “Ah, shush, shush. Good girl. This is progress, we know so much more now, I need to make some…. Urgh… phonecalls. You rest up and recover.”
Her mind was still reeling when she was led back to the cell, and blearily realised she’d missed a chance to escape. But the man- Noah- gave her a big bowl of water and something like cat food and she was hungry enough to dig in. There wasn’t any dignity to it, no ripping long bloody strips off prey, but it was filling. And he didn’t chain her up.
Drinking was a different beast. She couldn’t decide between lapping it up, or scooping and tilting her head back. Neither seemed particularly dignified- and her musing turned to spluttering coughs when a sudden impact jolted her tail. Karen whirled, only to meet the orange eyes of the fluffy griffin cub, perched triumphantly on the tufted end of her tail.
Karen clicked her beak and whipped her tail away. That wasn’t impressive- she’d been distracted. Immediately the cub tensed and pounced again, but she was ready and twisted it aside again. It was much easier to handle than the mermaid tail, and she rumbled as she lashed it just out of his reach, like a cat chasing string. He was quite an adorable little creature, though she had no idea of age- human young were useless flesh blobs, but maybe mystics had more competent infants.
He took advantage of her distraction to leap and pin the tail entirely, and Karen chuckled, gave a dramatic wobble and flopped across the floor defeated, as the hatchling chirped victoriously.
The new angle drew her gaze across the room, and she noted the big chestnut griffin was watching, tense and ready to intervene. But she hadn’t. She gave a small nod and gentle noise, and the cub scampered back to vanish under her wings, purring proudly. Maybe she was less territorial than she seemed.
Still, Karen kept her distance, perching on a far corner with good sight of the door, then shifted to find a comfortable position. Curled up under her wings was quite pleasant, even on cold stone, and with a sated stomach she settled in to wait.
* * * * *
Little had changed when she awoke, though there was a new welcome bowlful of food and the other griffins were active. The mother had taken to curling her wings over her head, then lunging out to play peekaboo with the cub, who chirped and tumbled over with every surprise.
When the door did open, it was the visored guard-thing and Karen quickly threw her wings over her own eyes defensively.
“Calm down. I got told.” The thing grunted, “Just… behave. Here’s a gown- open up and I’ll give you a veil. Bigwigs want to talk.”
Karen tensed, but screwed her eyes shut and opened her beak, soon tasting that horrid slimy thing again. The process was almost identical, the sensation of freezing, melting and reshaping into a human nothing like Logan’s potions, and she felt a new surge of sympathy for Maddie. How long would the mermaid have to keep secretly taking this stuff? She shuddered and dressed in the gown, stretching her aching limbs.
“He-aargh, urgh, hey Benign! I’m done!” She rapped the door and closed her eyes. “Am I the same as before?”
“Yes. This way.” A hand pulled her through then slammed the noisy metal, “And for your own sake, open your damn eyes- gorgon paralysis doesn’t require eye contact.”
“So you can do it whenever? That’s not fair!”
“No,” The thing- the gorgon- agreed bitterly, “It’s not a fair world. Come on.”
They led her to a different room the second time. It was higher up the building, which she took to be a sign of greater importance though staircases in soft human feet were no pleasure. The door was big, grey and metal, and all plain grey on the inside, with two grey chairs, a metal table, a big mirror across one wall, and a grey haired man.
“Ah, C394- Karen Emma Thomson, yes?” His voice was anxious and quick, bespectacled face plain but familiar.
“Emily not Emma, but yeah.” She corrected him warily, “You’re Doctor… Morrison, right? From the conference?”
“Close. Doctor Iain Morris. Hello,” He extended a hand, white coat sleeve vanishing into a purple latex glove that she stared at, and he dropped it hurriedly. “Well, I’ve been informed of your c-condition, but have some more questions to get a full picture and finish registration- like what blood type are you?”
“I thought Hill wrote that down? AB Postive.” She recalled, and stood behind the chair as the gorgon lurked in the corner.
“Universal recipient.” He wiped his brow, “Fortunate.”
“I guess.” Karen frowned. “Why? Did I need blood?”
“A-ah. Yes. You would have likely died if not for Dr Hill’s ministration, and a transfusion of blood from C198- the other Gryphon. Ah, sorry, that sounds awfully dramatic.”
“I was shot.” She recalled bitterly. So she owed her life to… that crazy doctor and the mother bird? She had been that close to dying? “Is that why I’m still a griffin?”
“No. Dr Hill is an excellent veterinarian of three decades experience with many animals, your recovery is down to her skill. I try to minimize our use of m-magic precisely so that results are not tampered with. Only your interlude with A2 Verity, B9’s paralysis, and two doses of Veil have been magical.” Dr Morris lifted a digital tablet, “Speaking of which, I require a photograph of your Veiled form for identification, do you mind… looking neutral?”
That was easy, the entire experience was quite numbing, and he clicked while her gaze lingered on the mirror wall behind him, reflection’s blue eyes fretful. No. Don’t show weakness. “Are there people behind you? Like in police shows?”
“Uh, yes, this is being recorded too.” He considered the tablet, conjuring three images, “Gryphon form, veiled form, true form- oh, that face rings a bell- you’re the Ranelk girl who cartwheeled off the steps on sunday?”
“No, it was a dumpster and I did a backflip.” Karen corrected him, “Are you going to help or not?”
“Ah, sorry, but gathering data is helping.” Dr Morris clicked his pen and met her eyes, “It is my speciality. For example- you already knew the word Veil, and Logan Tohaken, and how to fly before your change, Ms Thomson. What exactly were your previous encounters with m-magic?”
His words were sharper than the tremor suggested. Karen flinched- did he know about Maddie already? Was he trying to trick her? No, she’d promised to keep the mermaid’s secret.
“Uh, Logan’s given me two Veils before?” She breathed, digging fingers into the back of the chair, “I met him last wednesday at school and he was going on and on about magic and not showing anything. So I kinda dared him, and we went to the lake for him to show magic off- but I drank the Veil by accident and turned into a mermaid too. And then to make up for it, I asked if he could make me fly and he let me be a hawk on Saturday.”
“No gryphon. A hawk. And a mermaid?” Dr Morris raised his eyebrows.
“He called it a naga?”
“Aha,” He swallowed, “And did you feel any s-side effects from these Veil experiences, Ms Thomson?”
“Beyond changing into them? No, no.” Karen shook her head, feeling short locks bounce around. Maddie was secret. Safe.
“As I said, I’d prefer not to order another t-telepathy session, but if you’re hiding something then we need to find out what it is, to help you. No secrets here, Ms Thomson.” The man pleaded, though his eyes were intense.
There had to be something else. Something to mask her fear. Something secret.
“I think I saw a ghost- on Sunday, after the conference, there was a mystic in the woods, but it was… it felt like it was in my head. It made me feel like nothing.” Karen murmured, feeling the memories stir.
His fingers worked the tablet, opening a list, “Oh my, uh, how did this mystic appear?”
“Like a bird zombie monster? Like… it looked like a corpse, but with one eye, like a birds eye, and five big wings but it wasn’t flying properly, and it said this thing my Pa said in his voice, perfect word for word, said it was a Bad Egg. And it was part of the fog- I tried to hit it, to drive it off, but there was nothing there but a pigeon and I was scared I was… people would think I was jumping at shadows, like a coward.” She explained, climbing to perch on the chair, “I’m not, it asked about the dragons then it mocked me and it felt like I was nothing. Then I killed its pigeon.”
“That…. Is a very odd experience. And not one I have heard of since I took this job.” His pen scribbled rapid notes, “Why did you attack Mr Tohaken, by the way?”
Karen tensed at the conversational whiplash, “I didn’t attack! I just gave him a little tap to stop fooling around. I thought he had pranked me… and… and I forgot about claws. I didn’t mean to hurt him, I thought he was dead, and… and… Matt cast magic at me!”
He glanced up to her, “D-do you need a moment to recompose yourself?”
“No- keep going!” She grunted, wiping her eyes.
“Was killing four sheep another accident?”
“I… don’t remember much. I was starving. They’re prey. I panicked.”
“They were, or are, prey?”
Karen frowned, “Were? Should I feel bad about them? Am I dangerous?”
“Yes, you’re very dangerous. But… hmm, did you ever see that snickers advert? ‘You’re not you when you’re hungry’?”
“Yeah- but I ate? I got full, why didn’t I turn back?”
“Oh- I’m not talking magically. For humans, a fifth of our energy intake fuels our brain. Assuming mystics are similar, then… well, hunger makes us all act irrationally. To lesser or greater effect.” He tilted his head, “Have you ever felt that h-hungry before?”
“No. It was like I was going to starve any second. But you can fix me, right?”
“We will see. Shapeshifting is tricky. It’s like…. Well, uh, watch this please.” He pulled a rubber band from his pocket and stretched it between his hands, moving it left and right, up and down as she followed it. “Imagine the band is someone’s form, and my hand is m-magic. I can stretch it, pull it into new shapes, bigger or smaller, complex or simple, but as soon as I release it, it snaps back into its original form.”
Karen leaned to the side as the band pinged past, “But the witch said I’m not under any magic?”
“Verity. Yes. Somehow… it’s as if that band is blue now. Your form has changed to a new base entirely. Are you aware of the time this occurred?”
“Three forty five. My clock fell on me.” Karen stood impatiently, hands on the table, “So can you help or not?”
“Not currently.” Dr Morris flinched, lifting his arms, “However, you are registered, you have no outstanding criminal charges, and it seems your recovery is progressing smoothly. So we can release you home.”
Her heart somersaulted, “Home? I’m still a griffin! I don’t even look like me. Are you insane?!”
“No, and neither are you. Your family thought you dead or kidnapped. This isn’t ideal, but they’ll be glad to have you back- your father is already en route, I’ve phoned him.” Dr Morris shuffled his papers into a neat pile. “Please do not misunderstand me. We will keep researching this problem, but there’s no need to keep you trapped within this miserable place to do so. And we have many other, less cooperative m-mystics to deal with.”
“Pa’s on his way?”
“Yes. Guard B9, can you take Ms Thomson to the locker room and help her get dressed and relaxed. I think Dave arranged for some food there. We will send you off with eight one-hour doses of Veil, and Ms Kingsley will you help Veil you at RASA. Perhaps she can help you appear like your old self.” Morris frowned. “A-also, I’ll need blood samples when you’re recovered, but for the moment you need home.”
Karen felt too bowled over to argue when the door opened, and the gorgon guard led her down into a more colourful corridor. Logan was alive. She was a griffin. She was going home. She didn’t look like her.
“Am I a monster?” She mumbled aloud.
The mirrored visor glanced her way. But the coarse voice was quiet. “You’re a teenager, it’s fairly standard. I’ve got… my sister’s kids are moving into RASA. Probably be at your school. Just be careful with those claws like they’re careful with their eyes.”
That made it sound simple. “Oh. Okay.”
“Good girl- argh, shit, now I’m saying it.” The guard groaned as they reached a red door, which revealed a dressing room, with several boxes of spare clothes, cubicles, showers, towels, and a small tray with plates of chocolate, grapes, ham and biscuits. “Please don’t say you need help dressing.”
“I’m not a child.” Karen reminded her and was left alone. They had quite the array, it looked like several jumble shops had exploded, and she was tempted to try and resemble her old self. But long jeans and shirts felt claustrophobic, and so she ate the ham and settled for a vest, loose sweater and skirt, sandals on her feet.
Then a knock at the red door. Two knocks, as usual.
Her heart leapt. For an instant she was back in her bedroom, covers torn, a monster lurking in place of his daughter. Bad. She had to go. How could she escape?
Another two raps.
No, Karen shook her head and breathed. She’d tried running- it didn’t work, she’d made everything worse. With another breath she raised her unfamiliar voice, and stepped away from the door, “Come in?”
Her Pa looked frazzled. His moustache was bushier, hair slightly plastering his brow, a little growth across his chin. Yet he was still him, big enough to fill the doorway and solid as a mountain, and her voice choked.
“Hey Pa.”
His eyes, deep green as the sea, blinked and looked over her, flickering unconsciously through the details. “New haircut. Easier to move in?”
“I’ve not practised much gymnastics.” She admitted, then felt an anxious smile spread over her lips, “But I learned to fly.”
“I heard. Flyin’. And causin’ havoc. Certainly been busy.” His voice was hard but his eyes were wet and she couldn’t take it any more. She charged him, only to hesitate an inch away and look at her hands. They were fleshy and blunt, right? No blood, no claws, no death.
He embraced her as she hesitated, big warm arms curling close, and she stood on tiptoes to rub her head against his chin, feeling the tension melt away. And even though his arms tightened around her, it didn’t feel like a trap. It felt safe.