[Red Ciranor]

      His nails scratched against his hands. The blood on his wrists was tacky, streaked between his fingers and smeared across his arms. His muscles hadn't settled entirely yet; long vines curled into place between his tendons, settling against branching root-nerves that tingled as they grew into flesh. His teeth were slowly clicking into place in his half-healed mouth, black bark bone knitting into a jawbone quickly hidden by snakeskin leaves that shifted into skin.
      It'd been a good hunt.
      Red squinted in the light of the parking lot. It was mostly empty. The chances of running into someone was low. But never nothing. He tugged on his jacket, half-made fingers tugging the sleeves down over stained arms and splattered shirt. The hood hid the jagged line of thorns that split his cheek open.
      There were a few advantages to looking being shady; people would leave him alone.
      Mostly.
      His vines twitched first. A flicker of movement towards fresh blood as eyes and eyes and eyes and eyes were felt on his body. There's someone watching him. A vivid stare glares out at Katie Graushuper . The hum that follows him pricks at the back of her neck, a biting beetle crawling down her spine. It's a thin warning, and Red stalks further into the shadows.
      He doesn't want any trouble. Not here. Not right now.
      But the woman doesn't show any signs of leaving. In fact, she looks intent on intercepting him. Red slows to a halt, still keeping more than enough distance to escape. His hands disappear into his pockets; the blood is hidden, for now. "What," Red says flatly.

[Katie Graushuper]

Katie shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. She should have listened to James when he told her to bring a thicker jacket. But there was nothing she could do about it now, walking towards her bike in the near empty parking lot. It was darker out then when Katie usually left work, and the night was creeping her out. Still, she hadn't gotten a lot of customers that night which was a relief because Katie had felt a schizophrenic episode coming on. She'd ran and locked herself in the bathroom until it was over. Katie hated dealing with customers and much preferred stocking the shelves, anyway. (She couldn't deny how convenient it was not to worry about a customer missing service because Katie was having an attack.) Normally she’d work third shift and leave around seven in the morning, but her manager had switched her to second that night. Kind of an inconvenience, if she was being honest. Katie’s only form of transportation was her bike, and she hated riding at night. She had a first aid kit in her basket, but she was still worried about not seeing something in the dark. 

Katie was reminded yet again of why she hated being out at midnight when a beetle-like sensation ran down her neck. A man was glaring at her from the shadows. Something about him made Katie want to turn away (danger, danger, danger). His hood was pulled up, obscuring his face from Katie’s view. As she turned her full attention on him, he shoved his hands into his pockets. It almost seemed like he was trying to hide. Katie wondered what he was doing out alone in the dark. She usually didn’t see anyone out at a time like this, after all the city at night could be dangerous. She’d heard horror stories about muggings and other nasty stuff from a particularly gossipy coworker. Katie couldn’t imagine getting beat up like that; but it sure would suck. Still, instead of walking away like her instinct was telling her, Katie paused and looked at him closer. She jolted as his voice broke the stillness.

”Oh! I’m so sorry, I don’t mean to be a creep or anything. You just–” Katie took a breath, a look of concern crossing her face, “Are you okay?”

Red Ciranor

[Red Ciranor]

       Red stopped. What did she want? He exhaled, forcing his shoulders down. "Yes," he said. A line of centipedes ran under his voice, clicking and skittering in the empty parking lot. His stare didn't leave her face. Go away. He was still hungry. He always was. His skin writhed with a tug of hunger and Red winced. His nerves were starting to settle. Any unconscious jerk of his plants hurt.
       His eyes darkened, sharp glare softening into something tired and scared as he edged around Katie Graushuper.
The longer he stayed- the longer she looked at him, the more she'd notice the rips in his sleeve from a flailing limb, the stains from bloody mud, the splatters on his jacket from a careless strike when he'd gotten too close to where he'd stashed it. And even at this distance, she could see the soaked shirt. She could see him.
       He didn't want to get caught.
       Red started walking. He could ignore her. She wasn't a threat. There was a twinge- something crawling under his skin- and he grimaced. One hand slipped out of his pocket to scratch at his jaw. His nails caught on the line of numb teeth beneath his cheek, fingers pushing the gums into place as he walked. Exhaustion was starting to creep into his bones; he needed to get to the bus stop before he collapsed.