In the waning daylight he felt his bones begin to stir within the silk nestled around them. The ash that had fallen from them slowly began to sprout vines of porcelain and red with each dying ember of light, their tendrils of flesh wrapping and weaving along his frame. Blood began to pump as organs knotted themselves together and though he was often considered heartless and without breath, he felt his lungs expand as the first resonating thump of a heart beat followed the next and then the other soon into rhythm.
When he could finally uncurl his fingers and toes, he stretched his lean muscular body out to unstiffen his joints while needles of dark hair pierced out of his skin and dusted his nakedness. Fabrics of charcoal and crimson fluttered like moths to keep him from exposure and brittled rubber melted into shape with flexible leather to ensure he could tread anywhere. As the last wave of inkiness wrapped softly around his tipped ears, he took a long breath in through his nose and released it out through his parted pale lips in a soft sigh; his bold red tongue lightly tracing over his elongated incisors in its wake.
The sun finally died and the dust in his tomb had departed with it, leaving a chill in the night and a longing in his veins for a Siren whose call never ceased. He pushed against the stone slab at his booted feet and crawled free of the narrow tomb he had been placed in not long ago. Tenderly, he reached out and rans his palms over the neighboring slabs around him, making sure his family had remained undisturbed as well, before turning and finally stepping out into the brisk night, leaving the Moslem behind him as the hunt began.
When he could finally uncurl his fingers and toes, he stretched his lean muscular body out to unstiffen his joints while needles of dark hair pierced out of his skin and dusted his nakedness. Fabrics of charcoal and crimson fluttered like moths to keep him from exposure and brittled rubber melted into shape with flexible leather to ensure he could tread anywhere. As the last wave of inkiness wrapped softly around his tipped ears, he took a long breath in through his nose and released it out through his parted pale lips in a soft sigh; his bold red tongue lightly tracing over his elongated incisors in its wake.
The sun finally died and the dust in his tomb had departed with it, leaving a chill in the night and a longing in his veins for a Siren whose call never ceased. He pushed against the stone slab at his booted feet and crawled free of the narrow tomb he had been placed in not long ago. Tenderly, he reached out and rans his palms over the neighboring slabs around him, making sure his family had remained undisturbed as well, before turning and finally stepping out into the brisk night, leaving the Moslem behind him as the hunt began.
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