Serpent Lake הזר

for the first time in days, izaiah sees movement.
not just movement, but a person — a shadow, woven into the midnight that engulfs her, a little blackbird. she is too far away for him to make much out of her features, but he can see the bright pair of eyes, the sharp curves of her slender face.
she is small. fragile, if he had to guess. he could crush her into dust with one palm, and he was not exactly impressive in his own right. this intrigues him in a way he would never voice aloud.
they stare at each other for a while, as long as izaiah allows it to go on for, until he makes an advance — he dips a spindly forelimb into the current, letting it dangle over the edge. he wanted to know if she understood him; equal footing must be established before he is to let himself speak, for he is an alien even to himself.