Chapter Text
The walls are soft as butter, soft as human skin; they offer no resistance at all as he sinks through them.
He observes, and he laughs.
Humans are so weak, so attached to the idea that stone and wood will protect them, with no idea how fragile a protection it is. Time alone will rot and crumble them away.
And they don’t know of any dangers beyond wind and rust. They lack the vision of a bird in flight, hearing sharp enough to listen to the whispers of trees, the wisdom borne of centuries trickling by. They are blind to those who cannot be held back by walls; lack the cunning to survive more than a handful of years.
It’s a waste of breath, snatching one of those just for the luxury of having lungs to breathe with.
Only a few have more than the merest trickle of power, and fewer yet the ability to bend others to their will.
Those who do, make the choicest prey.
To find one sheltered here, in this paltry human structure, is an unexpected delight, and an opportunity he has no intention of allowing to slip by.
Human with the means to command the spirits, he breathes, delighted. Here you are.
Following the trail of rumors was worth it, he thinks. If he had stolen claws, he could sink them into the wood and arch his back like a lion, but he needs hands. He needs a voice, to command. He will be so much better at it than a mere human.
So he settles, and pulls at the threads until they are loose and ready to unfurl, and weaves a net.
The human will not escape it.