This chapter's a bit shorter...but don't worry, it's just full
of...well, Dilandau and Van. ^_~ And big scary things, which
I would mention in detail, but then what fun would that be?
Escaflowne's not mine. This story is. Duh.
=== "Red Threads" by Morgan Steelgrave - Chapter Two ===
Hitomi and Merle sat with their faces pressed against the window. It had begun to rain, a penetrating shower that left on the ground puddled mirrors of the destruction that was Asturia. The storm had soothed the fires into charred heaps and the odd blackened facade that still stood, stubborn against even the utter chaos of an all-out guymelef duel.
It had been two days.
Merle sighed heavily, her face drooping even more as it rested dejectedly on her hands. She hated to think of poor Van-sama out there in such awful weather, especially if he was stuck with that crazed maniac from Zaibach. Next to her Hitomi echoed her sigh, and the cat-girl scowled slightly.
"Are you still worried about him?" Millerna asked gently from the hearth behind them. Merle turned to her, her childish concern plain in her large blue eyes.
"Yeah," she said sadly, turning back to the window. "I wish he would come home. I miss him."
Millerna placed a comforting hand on Merle's head, smoothing her bobbed hair. "It shouldn't be too much longer. You just have to keep watching for him. Right, Hitomi?" She looked over at the other girl, who seemed to be mesmerized by the little rivulets of water slipping down the window panes. "Hitomi?"
The girl jumped. "What? I'm sorry, did you say something?" She blushed sheepishly. Merle growled, but Millerna returned her embarrassed grin with a sweet smile of her own.
"I was just telling Merle that Van should be home before much longer."
"Oh," Hitomi trailed off, smiling faintly. "Yes, I suppose he should be back before long. If everything goes well, that is."
"Everything *will* go well. Won't it?" Merle asked, tugging on the older girl's sleeve. Hitomi involuntarily reached for her pendant, but her hand grasped only her shirt. She had forgotten that she gave it to Van. She had not imagined how naked and vulnerable she would feel without it.
"As far as I can tell," she nodded slowly. Merle raised an eyebrow.
"As far as you can tell?" she asked incredulously. "What, no blood and guts? That's not like you."
"Are you sure, Hitomi?" Millerna asked, the note of urgency in her voice well-disguised beneath her sweetness. It was there, all the same. Hitomi blushed even deeper under the scrutiny of her friends.
"Y-yes," she stammered.
"What are you not telling us?" The cat-girl grabbed her collar with extended claws, her tiny pointed teeth bared in her best effort at a threatening grimace. Hitomi shrugged out of her grasp, disheveled and perturbed.
"I told you already, nothing bad is going to happen to Van while he is in the forest with Dilandau," she replied hotly, brushing herself off. "Now would you please leave me alone?"
Merle simply hmphed and slid out the door without deigning to glance back. Millerna sat down next to the irritated girl and said softly, "I'm sorry, Hitomi. We didn't mean to second-guess you. It's just that it's a huge risk, sending the king of Fanelia out into the woods alone with someone like Dilandau Albatou. You understand our concerns, right? We *need* Van on our side. Just like I know you need him."
Hitomi's eyes widened, and she shook her head to deny the princess's remark. Millerna cut her off.
"You both got dragged into this together," she smiled. "You've saved his life so many times I've lost count. We need him around to return the favor." She rose, her frilly dressing gown making soft hushing noises against the floor. "If you say Van will come back, I believe you, Hitomi. I know everything will be okay in the end. Goodnight."
Hitomi watched the princess leave, shutting the door carefully behind her. She pressed her hot forehead against the chilly glass, letting the world outside go out of focus as she gazed through the sheets of water sliding confidently downward.
* * *
Van and Dilandau, however, did not have the luxury of leisurely witnessing the rain through a window. They plowed through the woods, dodging trees they could barely see through the downpour, catching roots and brambles with their increasingly sluggish feet. When a tree came into view between them, they each tried to go a different direction around it; when they passed through an area of thick undergrowth, they ran heedlessly into the bracken, getting tangled in the thorny bushes. They argued over which direction to take, which way they would step around the huge mud puddles, and when they would rest, pulling on the red ribbon until their wrists were chafed and their shoulder sockets groaned from the strain. At last the rain became so heavy that they could barely see each other, let alone any given distance in front of them. One of them slipped, neither really cared who, and both young men fell to the wet earth, exhausted and drenched.
"Get off me," Van ordered, struggling to get up from the muck. Dilandau shivered.
"I w-would if I c-c-could," he retaliated through chattering teeth. Stupid fucking teeth, he cursed inwardly. He would rather die than let on that he was about to freeze. But his speech had to betray him to the other. Van tugged his companion to his feet, shoving him forward.
"Come on. I can make out a bridge ahead. We'll get under that and wait for the rain to stop." He slid down the side of the ditch, pulling Dilandau along behind him. The creek below was brimming, but the ravine was deep enough that there was plenty of room beneath the bridge higher on the walls.
Grateful for the brief respite, Van leaned heavily against one of the thick wooden pillars, panting and shaking water from his dark hair like a dog. He glanced over at Dilandau, who had not moved since he hit the ground. The pale Dragonslayer had not bothered to swipe the wet silver hair from his eyes or wring some of the damp from his violet shirt. He sat shivering, staring furiously at the ground, trying his hardest to ignore the other party.
"You should try to dry off as much as you can," Van prompted casually, not wanting to provoke his ire. Dilandau did not move, but his scarlet eyes rolled in Van's direction.
"I hate cold." Van blinked.
"What?"
"I said I hate cold," Dilandau muttered, hugging himself with thin, sinewy arms. Van noted that the Zaibach soldier was even paler than usual, though prideful fires were still banked in his eyes.
"You think I *like* feeling like a wet dog?" Van snorted. His jibe fell on deaf ears. Dilandau was still ignoring him. "Look, if you dry off you'll feel a little warmer." Dilandau glanced at him sullenly, but lifted his hands to begin untying the laces at the front of his shirt.
"Dilandau, I think--"
"I don't need your help," he muttered, despite the fact that his chilled fingers refused to work properly. Once he finally won the struggle to get the violet shirt untied, it dawned on him that he could not remove it with one arm attached to Van. He stared at it dumbly for a moment, his free hand still entwined in the laces.
"Damn it, Dilandau, don't be stupid. Here." Patiently moving his fingers aside, Van leaned over and simply ripped the shirt at the shoulder seam, pulling it off and twisting it in his hands to wring the water from it. He smoothed it back, dryer now, and laid it on the ground next to Dilandau. The pale boy stared at it as if he was unsure of its allegiances, as if it had betrayed him like his teeth and fingers had.
"Why did you do that?" he asked quietly, his brow furrowed in some unidentified consternation.
"Because you're cold and too stubborn to do anything about it. You can sew it back later," Van replied dryly, removing his own shirt and repeating the process. "And you would have complained about it."
"I do not *complain*."
Van raised an eyebrow. "I was making a joke. No, you never complain. You'd rather gnaw through your own arm than allow anyone to help you." Both boys' eyes roved to the red ribbon. "Maybe that wasn't the best way to phrase that."
"And what has you in such a generous mood all of a sudden?" Dilandau asked acidly, his eyes piercing Van's forced casualness from behind the brief curtain of dripping platinum hair. The Fanelian king shrugged.
"We're in this together," he said. "We should watch out for each other, just so we can see this thing out."
"Hmph," the Dragonslayer replied ambiguously. "As long as I get to kill you when this is done with." Van smiled.
"That's more like it," he laughed. Dilandau smirked, a flicker of his usual zeal returning to his expression. That same obstinate piece of hair hung before his eyes, and it finally irritated Van enough to do something about it. Exasperatedly, he reached out and brushed it to the side, flinging crystalline drops of water into the air as he did so. Dilandau caught his arm as he withdrew, surprising the dark young man.
"Swear," he said, his face serious once more, but perhaps the most lucid Van had seen it. "If we die, it's by the other. You won't let anyone else have the honor of taking your life before I do. Swear it." His long, tapered fingers curled tighter around Van's wrist, remarkably strong for such a fine-boned hand. Van felt his eyes being held captive, too, by that unwavering garnet gaze. He turned his left hand in the ribbon and gripped Dilandau's other forearm, returning the gesture.
"I swear it," he said, "and you'll do the same. I'll have your life and no one else, Dragonslayer."
Dilandau smiled, releasing Van's arm. "Your life is mine, Dragon. Before I kill you, though, I'd like to bring this matter up with Folken. He has some explaining to do."
"Hitomi, too," Van added, pursing his lips in thought. "We'll get even, and *then* we'll settle everything else."
"Fair enough."
"I didn't think you played fair," Van grinned.
"I don't," Dilandau smiled back, white teeth glinting sharply in the shadow of the bridge, which was getting darker by the minute as night slowly wrapped its wings around the woods.
"As long as we both know what we're getting into," the king of Fanelia managed around yawn. "Do you think we could continue this teamwork thing while we catch a little sleep?"
"You go ahead," Dilandau nodded, "I'll take first watch." Not that there was a lot either of them could do should something go wrong, but their situation made them both considerably more vulnerable than they were used to. Every little bit would help. These thoughts ran through Van's mind as he regarded his companion warily in the dark.
"Are you sure?" he asked incredulously. "You won't try anything, will you?" Dilandau rolled his eyes impatiently.
"I gave you my word, didn't I?"
"Yes, but is it any good?"
"Just go to sleep, you idiot. I'll wake you in a couple hours," the Dragonslayer replied, his annoyance beginning to wear through in his voice. He nudged his now-ruined shirt in Van's direction, indicating with a grunt that he should take it. Still staring at Dilandau suspiciously, Van took it and folded it, placing it under his head as he stretched out as best he could. The albino boy sighed and added a little more tolerantly, "I have some things I need to think about. It's not problem."
Van nodded vaguely after a moment, then shut his eyes. They felt like they were made out of lead, he was so tired. The day had been long and arduous, both physically and emotionally. As he felt around on his chest for the pendant, swiftly slipping off to sleep, it occurred to the young king that he had some things he needed to think about, too.
* * *
He was awakened shortly by a sharp tug on the ribbon, then another. Forcing his eyes open, Van struggled into a sitting position, rubbing his face to wake himself up.
"What's going on?" he asked groggily. Dilandau was sitting forward slightly, and when Van spoke aloud the Dragonslayer silenced him by raising a hand.
"I thought I heard something," he whispered. Both boys sat in anxious silence for a long while, but there was no further noise. Van poked Dilandau in the shoulder irritably.
"Did you really need my help on that one?" he demanded, settling down to go back to sleep. Dilandau looked back at him, ruby eyes glowing eerily in the dark. Though he could not see his expression, Van could just imagine the look of annoyance on the other boy's face.
"I heard *something*, I tell you. I didn't just wake you up to spite you, though I rather like the idea at the moment," he hissed. "Besides, it's your turn to take watch."
"Oh, fine. As long as you don't snore." Van sat up, leaving his left hand on the ground at his side to allow some slack in their bonds. Dilandau glared at him, communicating without words that the great Dilandau Albatou did *not* do something as mundane as snore, then curled up in a position Van would have thought only comfortable for a feline and closed his eyes. It was not two minutes before there was a long, rattling hiss of breath.
"Oh, for crying out loud," Van said, poking the Dragonslayer. Dilandau did not move.
"That wasn't me," he said cautiously. Van snorted.
"Right," he agreed sarcastically, "I never pictured you snoring."
"No, I'm serious," Dilandau sat up slowly, crimson eyes flickering back and forth, searching their surroundings. "It wasn't me." The two boys sat perfectly still, strained to hear the noise again.
"If it wasn't you, then what--?" Van whispered, but the noise came again, the same oiled, rasping exhalation. Van's eyes widened in the dark and he yanked Dilandau into a standing position. They backed against the tree, Dilandau complying with Van's unspoken orders despite his confusion. The Fanelian seemed on point, striving with every sense to discover the location of the noise.
"What is it?" the Dragonslayer whispered, his lips so close to Van's ear he could feel his breath stir the hairs at the nape of his neck. The proximity did not phase the young king, however, and he held up a hand, motioning for the pale boy to be quiet.
"There. Ahead and to the right." Van tensed, though Dilandau could still see nothing. He was about to question his companion more insistently when he heard the trees rustle in the direction Van had noted. No, they did more than rustle, he corrected himself. They were falling on each other like matchsticks, parting the way for *something* to come through. Dilandau held his breath, waiting for the unknown enemy to appear. He did not have to wait long.
The land dragon rose from the damp woods with a steely hiss of armored scales gliding along each other like an oiled death machine. Its yellow eyes glowed, slitted pupils contracting and dilating, sensing its prey with methodical precision.
"Don't move."
- TO BE CONTINUED -
Escaflowne's not mine. This story is. Duh.
=== "Red Threads" by Morgan Steelgrave - Chapter Two ===
Hitomi and Merle sat with their faces pressed against the window. It had begun to rain, a penetrating shower that left on the ground puddled mirrors of the destruction that was Asturia. The storm had soothed the fires into charred heaps and the odd blackened facade that still stood, stubborn against even the utter chaos of an all-out guymelef duel.
It had been two days.
Merle sighed heavily, her face drooping even more as it rested dejectedly on her hands. She hated to think of poor Van-sama out there in such awful weather, especially if he was stuck with that crazed maniac from Zaibach. Next to her Hitomi echoed her sigh, and the cat-girl scowled slightly.
"Are you still worried about him?" Millerna asked gently from the hearth behind them. Merle turned to her, her childish concern plain in her large blue eyes.
"Yeah," she said sadly, turning back to the window. "I wish he would come home. I miss him."
Millerna placed a comforting hand on Merle's head, smoothing her bobbed hair. "It shouldn't be too much longer. You just have to keep watching for him. Right, Hitomi?" She looked over at the other girl, who seemed to be mesmerized by the little rivulets of water slipping down the window panes. "Hitomi?"
The girl jumped. "What? I'm sorry, did you say something?" She blushed sheepishly. Merle growled, but Millerna returned her embarrassed grin with a sweet smile of her own.
"I was just telling Merle that Van should be home before much longer."
"Oh," Hitomi trailed off, smiling faintly. "Yes, I suppose he should be back before long. If everything goes well, that is."
"Everything *will* go well. Won't it?" Merle asked, tugging on the older girl's sleeve. Hitomi involuntarily reached for her pendant, but her hand grasped only her shirt. She had forgotten that she gave it to Van. She had not imagined how naked and vulnerable she would feel without it.
"As far as I can tell," she nodded slowly. Merle raised an eyebrow.
"As far as you can tell?" she asked incredulously. "What, no blood and guts? That's not like you."
"Are you sure, Hitomi?" Millerna asked, the note of urgency in her voice well-disguised beneath her sweetness. It was there, all the same. Hitomi blushed even deeper under the scrutiny of her friends.
"Y-yes," she stammered.
"What are you not telling us?" The cat-girl grabbed her collar with extended claws, her tiny pointed teeth bared in her best effort at a threatening grimace. Hitomi shrugged out of her grasp, disheveled and perturbed.
"I told you already, nothing bad is going to happen to Van while he is in the forest with Dilandau," she replied hotly, brushing herself off. "Now would you please leave me alone?"
Merle simply hmphed and slid out the door without deigning to glance back. Millerna sat down next to the irritated girl and said softly, "I'm sorry, Hitomi. We didn't mean to second-guess you. It's just that it's a huge risk, sending the king of Fanelia out into the woods alone with someone like Dilandau Albatou. You understand our concerns, right? We *need* Van on our side. Just like I know you need him."
Hitomi's eyes widened, and she shook her head to deny the princess's remark. Millerna cut her off.
"You both got dragged into this together," she smiled. "You've saved his life so many times I've lost count. We need him around to return the favor." She rose, her frilly dressing gown making soft hushing noises against the floor. "If you say Van will come back, I believe you, Hitomi. I know everything will be okay in the end. Goodnight."
Hitomi watched the princess leave, shutting the door carefully behind her. She pressed her hot forehead against the chilly glass, letting the world outside go out of focus as she gazed through the sheets of water sliding confidently downward.
* * *
Van and Dilandau, however, did not have the luxury of leisurely witnessing the rain through a window. They plowed through the woods, dodging trees they could barely see through the downpour, catching roots and brambles with their increasingly sluggish feet. When a tree came into view between them, they each tried to go a different direction around it; when they passed through an area of thick undergrowth, they ran heedlessly into the bracken, getting tangled in the thorny bushes. They argued over which direction to take, which way they would step around the huge mud puddles, and when they would rest, pulling on the red ribbon until their wrists were chafed and their shoulder sockets groaned from the strain. At last the rain became so heavy that they could barely see each other, let alone any given distance in front of them. One of them slipped, neither really cared who, and both young men fell to the wet earth, exhausted and drenched.
"Get off me," Van ordered, struggling to get up from the muck. Dilandau shivered.
"I w-would if I c-c-could," he retaliated through chattering teeth. Stupid fucking teeth, he cursed inwardly. He would rather die than let on that he was about to freeze. But his speech had to betray him to the other. Van tugged his companion to his feet, shoving him forward.
"Come on. I can make out a bridge ahead. We'll get under that and wait for the rain to stop." He slid down the side of the ditch, pulling Dilandau along behind him. The creek below was brimming, but the ravine was deep enough that there was plenty of room beneath the bridge higher on the walls.
Grateful for the brief respite, Van leaned heavily against one of the thick wooden pillars, panting and shaking water from his dark hair like a dog. He glanced over at Dilandau, who had not moved since he hit the ground. The pale Dragonslayer had not bothered to swipe the wet silver hair from his eyes or wring some of the damp from his violet shirt. He sat shivering, staring furiously at the ground, trying his hardest to ignore the other party.
"You should try to dry off as much as you can," Van prompted casually, not wanting to provoke his ire. Dilandau did not move, but his scarlet eyes rolled in Van's direction.
"I hate cold." Van blinked.
"What?"
"I said I hate cold," Dilandau muttered, hugging himself with thin, sinewy arms. Van noted that the Zaibach soldier was even paler than usual, though prideful fires were still banked in his eyes.
"You think I *like* feeling like a wet dog?" Van snorted. His jibe fell on deaf ears. Dilandau was still ignoring him. "Look, if you dry off you'll feel a little warmer." Dilandau glanced at him sullenly, but lifted his hands to begin untying the laces at the front of his shirt.
"Dilandau, I think--"
"I don't need your help," he muttered, despite the fact that his chilled fingers refused to work properly. Once he finally won the struggle to get the violet shirt untied, it dawned on him that he could not remove it with one arm attached to Van. He stared at it dumbly for a moment, his free hand still entwined in the laces.
"Damn it, Dilandau, don't be stupid. Here." Patiently moving his fingers aside, Van leaned over and simply ripped the shirt at the shoulder seam, pulling it off and twisting it in his hands to wring the water from it. He smoothed it back, dryer now, and laid it on the ground next to Dilandau. The pale boy stared at it as if he was unsure of its allegiances, as if it had betrayed him like his teeth and fingers had.
"Why did you do that?" he asked quietly, his brow furrowed in some unidentified consternation.
"Because you're cold and too stubborn to do anything about it. You can sew it back later," Van replied dryly, removing his own shirt and repeating the process. "And you would have complained about it."
"I do not *complain*."
Van raised an eyebrow. "I was making a joke. No, you never complain. You'd rather gnaw through your own arm than allow anyone to help you." Both boys' eyes roved to the red ribbon. "Maybe that wasn't the best way to phrase that."
"And what has you in such a generous mood all of a sudden?" Dilandau asked acidly, his eyes piercing Van's forced casualness from behind the brief curtain of dripping platinum hair. The Fanelian king shrugged.
"We're in this together," he said. "We should watch out for each other, just so we can see this thing out."
"Hmph," the Dragonslayer replied ambiguously. "As long as I get to kill you when this is done with." Van smiled.
"That's more like it," he laughed. Dilandau smirked, a flicker of his usual zeal returning to his expression. That same obstinate piece of hair hung before his eyes, and it finally irritated Van enough to do something about it. Exasperatedly, he reached out and brushed it to the side, flinging crystalline drops of water into the air as he did so. Dilandau caught his arm as he withdrew, surprising the dark young man.
"Swear," he said, his face serious once more, but perhaps the most lucid Van had seen it. "If we die, it's by the other. You won't let anyone else have the honor of taking your life before I do. Swear it." His long, tapered fingers curled tighter around Van's wrist, remarkably strong for such a fine-boned hand. Van felt his eyes being held captive, too, by that unwavering garnet gaze. He turned his left hand in the ribbon and gripped Dilandau's other forearm, returning the gesture.
"I swear it," he said, "and you'll do the same. I'll have your life and no one else, Dragonslayer."
Dilandau smiled, releasing Van's arm. "Your life is mine, Dragon. Before I kill you, though, I'd like to bring this matter up with Folken. He has some explaining to do."
"Hitomi, too," Van added, pursing his lips in thought. "We'll get even, and *then* we'll settle everything else."
"Fair enough."
"I didn't think you played fair," Van grinned.
"I don't," Dilandau smiled back, white teeth glinting sharply in the shadow of the bridge, which was getting darker by the minute as night slowly wrapped its wings around the woods.
"As long as we both know what we're getting into," the king of Fanelia managed around yawn. "Do you think we could continue this teamwork thing while we catch a little sleep?"
"You go ahead," Dilandau nodded, "I'll take first watch." Not that there was a lot either of them could do should something go wrong, but their situation made them both considerably more vulnerable than they were used to. Every little bit would help. These thoughts ran through Van's mind as he regarded his companion warily in the dark.
"Are you sure?" he asked incredulously. "You won't try anything, will you?" Dilandau rolled his eyes impatiently.
"I gave you my word, didn't I?"
"Yes, but is it any good?"
"Just go to sleep, you idiot. I'll wake you in a couple hours," the Dragonslayer replied, his annoyance beginning to wear through in his voice. He nudged his now-ruined shirt in Van's direction, indicating with a grunt that he should take it. Still staring at Dilandau suspiciously, Van took it and folded it, placing it under his head as he stretched out as best he could. The albino boy sighed and added a little more tolerantly, "I have some things I need to think about. It's not problem."
Van nodded vaguely after a moment, then shut his eyes. They felt like they were made out of lead, he was so tired. The day had been long and arduous, both physically and emotionally. As he felt around on his chest for the pendant, swiftly slipping off to sleep, it occurred to the young king that he had some things he needed to think about, too.
* * *
He was awakened shortly by a sharp tug on the ribbon, then another. Forcing his eyes open, Van struggled into a sitting position, rubbing his face to wake himself up.
"What's going on?" he asked groggily. Dilandau was sitting forward slightly, and when Van spoke aloud the Dragonslayer silenced him by raising a hand.
"I thought I heard something," he whispered. Both boys sat in anxious silence for a long while, but there was no further noise. Van poked Dilandau in the shoulder irritably.
"Did you really need my help on that one?" he demanded, settling down to go back to sleep. Dilandau looked back at him, ruby eyes glowing eerily in the dark. Though he could not see his expression, Van could just imagine the look of annoyance on the other boy's face.
"I heard *something*, I tell you. I didn't just wake you up to spite you, though I rather like the idea at the moment," he hissed. "Besides, it's your turn to take watch."
"Oh, fine. As long as you don't snore." Van sat up, leaving his left hand on the ground at his side to allow some slack in their bonds. Dilandau glared at him, communicating without words that the great Dilandau Albatou did *not* do something as mundane as snore, then curled up in a position Van would have thought only comfortable for a feline and closed his eyes. It was not two minutes before there was a long, rattling hiss of breath.
"Oh, for crying out loud," Van said, poking the Dragonslayer. Dilandau did not move.
"That wasn't me," he said cautiously. Van snorted.
"Right," he agreed sarcastically, "I never pictured you snoring."
"No, I'm serious," Dilandau sat up slowly, crimson eyes flickering back and forth, searching their surroundings. "It wasn't me." The two boys sat perfectly still, strained to hear the noise again.
"If it wasn't you, then what--?" Van whispered, but the noise came again, the same oiled, rasping exhalation. Van's eyes widened in the dark and he yanked Dilandau into a standing position. They backed against the tree, Dilandau complying with Van's unspoken orders despite his confusion. The Fanelian seemed on point, striving with every sense to discover the location of the noise.
"What is it?" the Dragonslayer whispered, his lips so close to Van's ear he could feel his breath stir the hairs at the nape of his neck. The proximity did not phase the young king, however, and he held up a hand, motioning for the pale boy to be quiet.
"There. Ahead and to the right." Van tensed, though Dilandau could still see nothing. He was about to question his companion more insistently when he heard the trees rustle in the direction Van had noted. No, they did more than rustle, he corrected himself. They were falling on each other like matchsticks, parting the way for *something* to come through. Dilandau held his breath, waiting for the unknown enemy to appear. He did not have to wait long.
The land dragon rose from the damp woods with a steely hiss of armored scales gliding along each other like an oiled death machine. Its yellow eyes glowed, slitted pupils contracting and dilating, sensing its prey with methodical precision.
"Don't move."
- TO BE CONTINUED -
