Barrow Fields Bramble shark

there was something beautiful about anger: it was so clean, like the cut of bone —

but red, and deep like a scar —

alive and livening, like molten lava as it moves destructively over everything —

she saw that emotion move against shardik. how it came to life in a flare of livid red; how it turned to cosmic fire and then died, collapsing against the blackness of his pupil like the swallowing of a new moon.

she wanted to know these emotions: to feel them stir against her pelt and move her blood.

shardik recovered with a long stare. she wondered if he saw her — not her physical manifestation, but the thing behind it — and she wondered what it was like to be perceived.

a smile graced her features, but did not reach her eyes. you’ll get dem next time.