Skinwalker

Chapter 16

I just had butter fried rice. I feel fat. It feels good. 

Curled up on the large four-poster bed was an odd creature. It had smooth dark burgundy skin stretched so tight that every movement of the muscles beneath it could easily be seen. What was once hair was now thick smooth tentacles falling down her back, in between two pairs of wings, all four either crumpled or stretched out clumsily.

            The tail was long and powerful, meant to help stabilise her in either flight or walking and hands and feet curved into claws and talons.

            Victor braced himself.

            As a fourth class Skinwalker, whatever emotions Anwen had were now condensed to very simple but primal emotions.

            If she was angry with him, she would no doubt strike out and attack the moment she noticed his presence.

            “Anwen, my love?”

            She looked up at once, her gold green eyes gleaming.

            At once she rose up on all fours and crouched, her tail weaving back and forth. She shifted her weight between her hands and legs, watching… estimating…

            Finally, with a snarl, the creature pounced straight at Victor, claws outstretched.

            But the dramatic attack was cut short as Anwen’s leg tangled in her tail and her wings were not outstretched properly, causing her to fall onto the floor with a loud thump.

            “Well… that was anticlimactic,” Victor commented, relaxing.

            Anwen whimpered quietly and Victor knelt down, “Shhh… it’s okay- I used to do that too. Luckily you only have four wings. I have six,” he told her, trying to calm her down and get her used to his voice.

            She swished her tail, sniffing him before trying to climb onto his lap.

            Victor picked her up with some difficulty as her wings shifted clumsily about.

            He placed her on his bed gently before sitting down himself to survey her closely.

            Anwen spoke in a series of chatters and chirps. There was a base language for the lower classes of Skinwalker, something that they knew the moment they shifted. Like their emotions it was very basic and simple.

            Victor listened.

            It seemed she wasn’t aware of her past. The lowest form always only had a very abstract idea of time.

            She was happy.

            She had been looking for him.

            “Really?” Victor asked, gently stroking her cheek.

            Anwen chirped and curled up again, her head on his knee as she purred noisily, her wings shifting about uselessly about her.

            Dr Andrews arrived and Victor looked at him, his hand resting between Anwen’s wings.

            “Well?”

            Dr Andrews shook his head, “Her conditioned stabilised last night. She’s behaving like a fourth class Skinwalker, no memories of anyone- just the idea that she likes them or she doesn’t.”