» dream
It was nighttime, but there was light for her to see by. She didn't question it, didn't even think to question it, because who needed light, really? Only people who fumbled around like they didn't know where they were going.
She knew exactly where she was going. She was on the hunt, the smells she was searching for blooming before her nose brighter than a neon sign. There was arsenic, yes, its trail fresh along the cobblestone path. The criminal had passed here not long before. She pressed her nose to the ground while she ran, but she didn't need to.
The city rose up and around her, shabby buildings lining up against shabby roads with shabby people walking them. There was a sudden explosion not far away, and out of nowhere there was a bucket chain, people passing along pails of water that oozed instead of dripped. She ducked between their legs and hurried. It wouldn't be far now; the smell of poison filled her nose.
She dashed past a crowd of fat, arguing men in pointy hats and around the corner of a bar with a very low door that her mind automatically labeled dwarf bar and skidded to a halt. There was the man she was after-but there was another man in front of him, tall and muscled with carrot-orange hair. He had his hands up in fisticuffs. The idiot!
The man she was after pulled out a strange-looking weapon, a row of tubes, and curled his finger over the trigger. She ran like she'd never run before, but the orange-haired one was down before she could get there. "No!" she shouted, and she was taller now, on two legs instead of four. Falling to his side, she could feel the tears welling up-but he was already pulling himself up, and smiling.
"It's all right," he said. "It hit me in the Protective. Go on, after him now."
"I can't," she protested. "You've just been shot I-"
"Personal isn't the same as important," he reminded her, and handed her something. "Here."
She looked. It was a metal badge on a looped string.
Hesitating for only an instant longer, she hung the badge around her neck and ran, back on four legs and gaining on her quarry. There was the fleeting sense of regret, as if there'd been something she wanted to do, but she just kept moving. Underneath her feet, the cobblestones became grass, and the city noise faded to the silence of the countryside. The buildings became a copse of trees, and when she raced out of them into a field, she saw her target. He wasn't a man, and he didn't have arsenic or a gonne. He was a wolf, like her, and he was waiting for her, his mad eyes shining in the light of the full moon overhead. A moment came and went, time enough for her to bare her teeth, tense her muscles, and make a decision.
She sprang.
She knew exactly where she was going. She was on the hunt, the smells she was searching for blooming before her nose brighter than a neon sign. There was arsenic, yes, its trail fresh along the cobblestone path. The criminal had passed here not long before. She pressed her nose to the ground while she ran, but she didn't need to.
The city rose up and around her, shabby buildings lining up against shabby roads with shabby people walking them. There was a sudden explosion not far away, and out of nowhere there was a bucket chain, people passing along pails of water that oozed instead of dripped. She ducked between their legs and hurried. It wouldn't be far now; the smell of poison filled her nose.
She dashed past a crowd of fat, arguing men in pointy hats and around the corner of a bar with a very low door that her mind automatically labeled dwarf bar and skidded to a halt. There was the man she was after-but there was another man in front of him, tall and muscled with carrot-orange hair. He had his hands up in fisticuffs. The idiot!
The man she was after pulled out a strange-looking weapon, a row of tubes, and curled his finger over the trigger. She ran like she'd never run before, but the orange-haired one was down before she could get there. "No!" she shouted, and she was taller now, on two legs instead of four. Falling to his side, she could feel the tears welling up-but he was already pulling himself up, and smiling.
"It's all right," he said. "It hit me in the Protective. Go on, after him now."
"I can't," she protested. "You've just been shot I-"
"Personal isn't the same as important," he reminded her, and handed her something. "Here."
She looked. It was a metal badge on a looped string.
Hesitating for only an instant longer, she hung the badge around her neck and ran, back on four legs and gaining on her quarry. There was the fleeting sense of regret, as if there'd been something she wanted to do, but she just kept moving. Underneath her feet, the cobblestones became grass, and the city noise faded to the silence of the countryside. The buildings became a copse of trees, and when she raced out of them into a field, she saw her target. He wasn't a man, and he didn't have arsenic or a gonne. He was a wolf, like her, and he was waiting for her, his mad eyes shining in the light of the full moon overhead. A moment came and went, time enough for her to bare her teeth, tense her muscles, and make a decision.
She sprang.