02-19-2009, 03:21 AM
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  It was hunger, she realized suddenly. She should have known it if not for the fact that his was not her kind; she hungered for one particular thing now, something that she was very close to losing. The longer she stayed her, the more aware of the situation she became. It was foolish to do so. Aurèle had forgotten she was no longer immortal. She laughed, suddenly, a rolling thing that might have been a raven at dusk or a prowling cat high on some rooftop. It was nearly mocking, as if the situation was far too absurd to believe. Her eyes focused on him, narrowed slightly, and she smiled. This was the smile of a hunting cat, the smile of understanding without knowing and of dare. “Has Alice found you yet, cat? The way you talk I expect you’ll lose one,” she began to gesture like a conductor. “, appendage after another.” Where had she heard that story from? Did it even matter now? Then, aware he would not understand her, she switched to French. “[The lighthouse is now a slaughterhouse,]” Aurèle stated. He was the first person she had told. She did not know why she had done that, exactly, but knew if she did not the guilt would destroy her slowly. |