(Untitled)

[rigthegames]

Out in the shadows by the lake, there’s a little yellow light floating from side to side in mid-air.

On closer inspection, could be there’s a cigarette on the end of it.

Come a little closer, and it becomes quite possible there’s a Sands on the end of thatHe’s pacing back and forth, one hand drumming on his thigh and the other clenching

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[not_one_drop]

She doesn't need a beacon, stalking over with calm grace. The doubts of the last few days have all but vanished, leaving her with a sense of almost tranquility.

It's time.

She doesn't make a sound, but she's not trying to hide.

[rigthegames]

He’s already on the edge. Expecting attack, although maybe not hers. Maybe not anyone’s in particular.

So one uneasy feeling, a slight prickling at the back of the neck, is easily overlooked in the sea of discontent and paranoia.

Mal goes unnoticed.

[not_one_drop]

Her smiles widens, gleams in the light. Twin fangs, sharp and ready.

"Sands."

[rigthegames]

He jumps, dropping his cigarette, and reaches down almost instantly for a new one. Automatic response, and then his hand stills at his pocket.

The ember flickers in the grass, fades. It goes out, and that’s when Sands looks up at her at last.

“Yes?”