It finally clicks, then. Shapeshifters. Spirits who take the form of foxes. They were all stories to Peter, and not particularly interesting ones, considering he’s heard countless variations on the same theme. Creatures who bewitched mortals, who tricked them and stole their very essence. No big deal. Happens all the goddamn time, really – maybe not to common folk, but certainly to people who dabbled with the arcane, the demonic, and the just plain weird. Sirens, vampires, incubi, succubi, harpies – and even ugly shit like beholders and aboleths – all had the ability to enchant hapless victims, and Peter was far more likely to run into one of those in weird fortresses, underground caverns, and abandoned dungeons.
So when she peeks at him over the bush, when he sees flashes of pale skin through the branches and leaves, he falls back heavily on his ass.
Quietly, but with feeling as he averts his gaze. ]
Fuck.
You’re— you’re a—
[ There’s a fancy name in a foreign tongue. He hisses in a breath, face scrunching a little as he tries to recall it.
But after a beat, he gives up. Without looking over at her, ]
no subject
It finally clicks, then. Shapeshifters. Spirits who take the form of foxes. They were all stories to Peter, and not particularly interesting ones, considering he’s heard countless variations on the same theme. Creatures who bewitched mortals, who tricked them and stole their very essence. No big deal. Happens all the goddamn time, really – maybe not to common folk, but certainly to people who dabbled with the arcane, the demonic, and the just plain weird. Sirens, vampires, incubi, succubi, harpies – and even ugly shit like beholders and aboleths – all had the ability to enchant hapless victims, and Peter was far more likely to run into one of those in weird fortresses, underground caverns, and abandoned dungeons.
So when she peeks at him over the bush, when he sees flashes of pale skin through the branches and leaves, he falls back heavily on his ass.
Quietly, but with feeling as he averts his gaze. ]
Fuck.
You’re— you’re a—
[ There’s a fancy name in a foreign tongue. He hisses in a breath, face scrunching a little as he tries to recall it.
But after a beat, he gives up. Without looking over at her, ]
—crap. What are you?