Long and ghastly hands grabbed and groped along the moss-covered slippery branches and roots of the trees in the dank woodland that laid around a primordial dark and heavy lake. The humidity of the large swamp meant that dense fog had also taken to rolling in from every side, obscuring any visibility that was left between the relenting darkness and the immensely thick foliage. Small, but truly viscous animals chirped and insects of all sorts buzzed all around the musty air of the all but murky water that brought forth a severe obstacle for those who are unfamiliar with the landscape and creatures that reside within the heart of the landscape.
The sounds of tree branches breaking and rustling of grass and leaves filled the still air as the creature trudged on through the wilderness. Simon had finally found some bearing in a small clearing where he swiftly leaned his body on a nearby tree for stability for his tall frame. His feet could barely carry him through the horribly unstable and jittering ground. Though normally he'd been agile enough to easily carry him through the mud and algae that covered the lagoon floor, this time he'd somehow found himself chasing a flaming specter. The night obstructed a true view of it but he was sure it was something mystical he's witnessed. Some things are simply not from this world and he just knew he'd find it here and now.
A subtle scent of vanilla musk that made his veins pulse more than they had already been. His eyes widened and he slowed his breath in an effort to capture more of the essence of beauty he'd even be so lucky enough to view with his own eyes. He was relentless to the potential of some form of connection with outside life that he wore himself ragged attempting to figure out what exactly it was he was following, most likely a woman-person from the neighboring village. People throughout this landscape had known better than to enter the grounds from which he'd found himself living on due to the dangers of the flora and fauna in the region. Though he'd longed the touch of another, instead he found himself constantly only surrounded by frogs and bugs who'd kept home in this part of the forest. Between visitors being so rare and him being unable to communicate properly with other people, it didn't make sense to even bother with trying to change anything about his lifestyle. This is simply how it was and he was perfectly fine with everything staying the same.
As he coarsely panted in an attempt to catch his breath, and attempting to not be seen through the thick woods that surrounded his deformed body, Simon had somehow become faced with a swift and jarring internal change he'd never been confronted with before. Upon his first spotting of her came a catastrophic flood of emotions that threatened to afflict his very core, and from then on, he'd become unable to stop thinking about the human each time he encountered them. And soon, finding her became easier and easier as well, it was as if her feet were lined with the sound of the morning birds, making the falling of her footsteps on the ground unmistakable to identify. Time and time again he crossed paths with her and each time it brought him endless flowing thoughts of Her. Something was different this time- seemed more receptive to the noises he began to struggle to hide as he'd creep around out of her line of sight.
He thought it better to hide his slippery self from the soft gaze of the apparition that haunted his mind- though he deeply wished to be perceived and accepted in all that he was. But a noisy thump here and a quick splash and crack there wasn't going to be left unnoticed, to his dismay. Catching her eye for the first time, he hesitated briefly, but once he noticed that she didn't seem scared of his grotesque form, but instead curious and with a gaze filled with an adventurous glint, he couldn't help himself. Without thinking, he inched closer with as much caution he could muster as to not scare her away. Simon's steps were each taken with a slight trembling that he struggled to control the closer he reached the being that laid before him. Once a blur of red and yellow, now a detailed portrait of an otherworldly woman that he continued to take in every inch of her being, determined to dedicate every brushstroke of her face and body to memory.
They both stopped briefly and waited for the other to say or do something that would break their gaze, but instead not either one of them could move a muscle to advance toward the other for quite some time. Simon muttered some semblance of a greeting and as did the other with vigilance of the body language each one displayed. Both studied each other with great care in attempting to figure out what they should say next to quickly break the silence. Not one could reasonably get a read on the other one and so Simon began to quiver out his next sentence.
"W-who exactly are you? And why have you come here?" He blurted the last part out as if to finish speaking as fast as he could.
Simon's words were lined with a simplicity and curiosity that had simply erupted from his core without the ability to stop them. And he was desperate for a response from the being that stood mere feet from him, and instead of any words, instead the air was filled with a low, hearty laughter that she relented at the relief of the gentle nature of the ethereal creature that she noticed was seeking her for quite some time before this interaction. His skin pulsed softly with the blood that pumped through his veins which was undoubtedly cold to the touch as well. And so she acted on this very thought.
She gingerly reached out to touch the thick gills and scales that covered his wrist, but at the expected flinch she received due to her sudden action, she stopped in her tracks and simply watched him. This was enough for him to let her reach out far enough to grab his wrist and with delicate precision she ran her fingers on the thick pads of his hands, and once she was satisfied with her quick inspection, finally muttered a response, not looking him in the eyes.
"My name is Betty Grof. I've been coming out here to this swamp on an excursion to identify and extract anthracosaurus amphibian fossils among those from other reptilian species and ancient insects that my research has been noted to be a great amount of within this area. I've been studying the grid patterns here and there seems to be a large amount of preserved specimens within the mud and amber within the bog of this swamp."
Following her explanation, she faintly hiccuped at the lack of response from the soggy creature, while she didn't wish to frighten him with too much information, but she couldn't stop herself from continuing on.
"And that's exactly who I am and why I've been coming here so much and now it looks like I've found you and thought that maybe I was maybe a little interested in seeing what or who you were, but you probably didn't want to hear all of that.. Who-" She stuttered quickly amending her statement to be more broad for his answer. "Or what, are you exactly..?"
He thought for a moment before he answered her rather direct question to him. What would his response mean to her? Would he scare her off with one answer more than the other and what tone should be adequate for this situation? Before he got too wrapped up in his thoughts he decided on finally giving her a response.
"I suppose I'm somewhat of a nomad of the forest who dwells alone in the grass and trees, and the darkness of these woods is all I've known for so many years now..."
"You've been living here as a creature of the night?" Betty asked inquisitively with curious vigor lining her words, as if she were trying to mentally confirm her own suspicions of what exactly he truly was and to prod his seemingly nocturnal prowess.
"Y-yes..?"
Simon stammered out almost as if he were questioning himself if that's an accurate description.
"Though nothing physically prevents me to wander the earth during the day but it seems like abilities I possess are indeed of a subhuman nature, but I just can't risk being spotted. Not like this, not by anyone."
Making a statement like that felt rather cold and empty to him but it was the truth as he knew it. He found himself able to do feats that other people couldn't, something that struck fear and terror in the eyes of those he'd briefly encountered previously. Their fear is likely attributed to bending his physical manifestations to his will, though having the form of a slightly larger than average adult man, he is able to entirely change his body and even to shift his consciousness between whichever form he took on, whether that was a human, animal or object. He would constantly stifle this ability, but since living in isolation, he is able to freely use it as he commands, but he still prefers to hide it when he can. A testament to his inner duty to keep intact the part of him that was still human.
The brief silence broken by the haste sound of scratching of paper on the coarse paper of the book Betty had retrieved from her backpack, entirely unbeknownst to him due to his being so lost in his own incessant thoughts even in the presence of someone such as herself. He composed himself and braced himself for any more questioning from the woman who stood before him. And as if she sensed the unease that he exuded she proceeded to keep her eyes fixed to the floor and chose to rest her aching body on a nearby tree stump. Taking a seat on the moss-covered stump, she flitted her eyes to his own glowing ones in a look that pleaded for him to join her.
Falling victim to her warm gaze, he felt himself teetering towards a nearby spot, almost as if her eyes had nearly caused him to forget even the most basic autonomic and conscious abilities he possessed. With somewhat of a struggle, he brought himself to the stump that laid as directly in front of hers as much as the nearby swamp greenery would allow. This place was once surrounded by the chattering of bugs and the croaking of toads all blended together in a cacophony to that of an unrelenting sound, but here in the moment he shared with Betty, there was nothing louder than the silence between the two as they sat there, both ruminating things to potentially voice to the other in the prickling howling of the night's harsh wind.