The Sentinels gayatri

he did not miss her stare, though he did not mind it. hadn't he been staring at her the same way? show me? he chuckled, one corner of his mouth tugging in a half-smile. what do you want to show me? swimming? a song and dance routine?

---

and then the fleeting shadow that took shape in the form of coelacanth, twirling in elegant dance on the sand. mesmerized, he sat, watching the girl's performance. hawkish gaze following her every move. how she told a story! one of loss, though with a sweet tinge to it. and happiness from long ago, and a healthy dose of good humor.

he could never tell a soul, but he loved the dark-pelted woman. differently, perhaps, than he loved dawn--but he loved her all the same, and it was a weight on his heart.

---

like the sun setting, the light abruptly died from his face as the hunter's moon rose before him once more, except its rays were not the flames of desire, but pulsing blood--

bismil, bismil, bulbul-e-bismil--

seelie's pelt, glossy black but the blood glossier still--

mat mil, mat mil, gul se mat mil--

bile rose in his throat, and he stifled a gag, swallowing and turning his head away, lowering it. taking a breath in with each couple of steps, letting it out in a rhythmic fashion. this went on for a few cycles until he felt calm enough to face lilia again, and did so with apology writ over his face.

i'm sorry, govinda whispered. show me your talents. but don't. . .please, don't--don't dance for me.