• wahmbulance wahmbulance wahmbulance wahmbulance wahmbulance

    The wolf-men were after us again, and I ducked into a narrow alleyway of New York City. God forbid Akila can even buy a smoothie without being recognized.
    Akila is the most obvious member of my flock. With her pale, pale skin, pointed elf ears, and angular features, which are customary on Elves, she stands out. She has dark, exotic eyes and high cheekbones. She is small and slender, but can cut your legs out from under you using a single kick in a second, then whip her legs around to knock out a tooth. She's not a bully. We're just trying to survive, here. Akila ran away frim home when she was about to be crowned the queen of her Elf clan. Her mother had just passed away, and she didn't want to wear a dress and heavy crown. She wanted to live her own life, to be free, to be who she really was. She's fourteen, but was about to have to marry twenty-four year old Duke Jeod of the Eastern Provdince of Alagasia, the land of Elves.
    Anyway, that's Akila. Kind of reckless and daring. I follow her, and our wings snap open. She dyed hers in neon shades, (what part of inconspicious does she not understand? -sigh-) but mine are every shade of blue and green known. The outer feathers are gold, and they sparkle in the sunlight as Akila and I take off into the sunset, leaving New York- and the wolf-men- far behind us