Snippet #2687819

The skin had been crafted from old porcelain and powdered bone. It was a pale, fragile façade, lined with patterns of blood red. The brown hair came from dying reed, turning human as it was given life. Green eyes were fashioned from poisonous frog hide, now taking its first uncertain blinks as the pupils shrank in the light of the fire. Until a host arrived, there would be nothing. No thoughts, no expression– nothing to indicate that the creature was alive aside from the slow moments of its chest. Breathing. This was not life, directly, but something imitating it.

A walking lie.

Then, from the darkest crevices of the undergrowth, he came out of hiding. For centuries he had been jumping from shadow to shadow, surviving on what little he could glean from hunters and travellers who were dumb enough to sleep out there in the dark. Malin's domain lay in the night– within the blackness of the hour where only the true predators could rule. He found his way to the shell with uncertain fingers curling around shoulders, and soon Malin took his first breath. Through his shell he cracked a wide smile, and he stepped into the light for the first time. Feeling the tingling warmth on his hands, he stretched and yawned like a cat after a nap. He was long overdue for a proper adventure, he thought, but then paused. His shell was being pulled away from the comfort of the fire– a calling to join its creator. Soon his new legs carried him across creaking wood across the house, until he was met with a doorway.

Malin was not used to feeling uncertain, but a small part of him wondered if he had been trapped. He was unused to this body, it would be hard for him to put up a fight. Still, he entered. A young woman sat at the end of a table– noises indicated that more creatures were on their way.

”Welcome," She said. "It’s time we talked about your futures.”

"Future? I like the sound of that," Malin drifted closer to the table, keeping an eye out for lurking demonologists. "Is that why you have made me this gift? Not that I'm complaining, you understand. I like it very much."

He took the chance to look closer at the interior, before his eyes drifted to the set table once again. "What are we having?