Of Fins and Feathers

Acting Up

    Sam's instincts are acting up.

    He was just sitting in his room, calmly reading a book on the history of the Antarctic Empire, which albeit, is more drama infused than a Soap Opera (Sam's favorite being "Of Salt and Fresh" a story of a freshwater mermaid and a saltwater mermaid falling in love, it's something akin to "Romeo and Juliette" though thats none of your business. )

    He snapped his book to a close as an ever-growing headache was forming behind his eyes.

    He looked towards the end of his bed, where Fran sat, she was completely fine, not the reason for the instincts then.

    Fran was a shape-shifting pet, a very common thing for merfolk to have as pets, mostly so that they could go in both climates that merfolk could.

    Fran decided wolf was the best option for land it seemed.

    He stood up and walked through his temporary chambers.

Back and forth, back in forth.

    He stood still, realizing his pacing, and then looked around the room he'd been placed in.

    The room was mostly a deep green with quite a few of brown tones.

   His bed was nestled in the middle, which was apparently common for Avian. A large desk sat beside a credenca to the left of the bed, with trinkets of little carved land critters, he found the racoon one cute, and the cat one ugly, he turned it around early in on his stay.

    It disturbed him.

    On the right of his bed sat a nightstand that had three books on it, one of them being the book he sat down.

    Fran lifts her head and looks to him, pacing and staring at the room, her head tilts in confusion.

   His eyes went soft for a moment before another twitch of his ear flicked.

    He was in his middle form, not quite perfectly human, not quite merfolk esque, his scelera was the black that it stayed and his ears sharp and fin-like, his fingers were webbed, and his nails were sharper, it was more comfortable to sleep in this form than his human form.

    Another ear flicker and eye twitch later, and he was annoyed by the constant twitching.

    His mind was screaming danger when he was completely safe, his dog was safe, Aimee was-

    Was Aimee okay?

     He rushed out of the room, grabbing a guest robe to cover his night clothes and slipping it on halfway through the door.

    While he was basically running down the halls, he caught eye of a concerned guard, and then forced himself to slow down.

    Once he reaches Aimee's door, he knocks on it.

    His foot was tapping on the floor as his ear flicked again, she still didn't open the door.

   He knocked again, this time a little louder.

    His sharp teeth ground against eachother as she didn't open the door again.

    His ear twitched.

    Sam furrowed his eyebrows, bit his claws down to a smaller, thinner shape, and stuck it in the keyhole.

    After moving it around a little, he heard a click.

    The room was a pale blue, with darker wood trimmings, the bed was in the center of the wall to his right, with a nightstand on each side, beside the nightstand closest to the entrance was a door, probably to a bathroom.