Work Text:
Avicularia kept pacing in her room, left to right, back and forth. Her eyes darted to the elongated shadows she cast across the smooth, cold tiles, flickering with the dim light. Her tail swayed like a hypnotic pendulum, keeping a rhythm only her restless feet could find as she flitted from corner to corner, tittering at nothing, her grin widening—almost manic. Pupils dilated and contracted into tiny slits at erratic intervals, hair bouncing with every sudden turn, from door to bed, from window to dresser, where the bloodied knife gleamed. What had she done?
Her smile sharpened, teeth glinting like knives themselves, tears beading down in streaks as red as the blood she drew from her mother.
Ironic.