feeds our hearts and starves our blood

The boy's retreat came to an abrupt halt, halted by a looming figure of childhood nightmares. Eyes aflame like the deepest pits of the earth, with red as vivid as the ancient crystals that adorned his throat. Flames, those fiery dancers, flickered along his ribcage, casting eerie shadows that seemed to reach for the very soul. Sakana had heard his fair share of spine-tingling tales beneath the moon's glow, and if he had to thrust this unearthly child into one of those stories, he'd place him squarely in the role of the hellhound, guardian of the underworld, harbinger of death itself. A lump formed in his throat, and he dared not meet those burning eyes directly. His ears, once perky, now lay flat against his head, a sign of submission. He lowered his chin, baring the vulnerable curve of his throat to the stranger.

Sakana, I'm a healer, or I hope to be..." the young man's voice rang out in the eerie silence that only came at altitude. Sakana's tail inched closer to his belly. He had been a fool to ignore the signs that something had drastically shifted in these lands, and he had been a fool to disregard the ominous warnings that now echoed in his mind. He wasn't sure running would help though.

“Speech”