by Tyler Earp
* * *
Rafe didn't like lookout details.
In fact, he hated them. His was a noble blood that deserved better than to sit in wait for a kid. Even if that kid can change everything, he thought to himself begrudgingly. I'm not a babysitter, after all.
Rafe had been sitting in that park for what had felt like hours. He'd wanted so desperately to move. To do… something other than sit in that same spot. But what his master commanded, he must obey. So he sat– and waited.
He looked up at the sun to see the passage of time and noticed that the sun was now dropping down toward the horizon though it wouldn't be dusk for hours still. That was when he heard the crunch of the dry gravel laid out on the pathway. Showtime.
He lowered his head and peeked toward the sound and recognized the boy as his target. He's barely large enough to be a snack. Oh, well. He'd learned long before then that looks could be deceiving, especially where he was from. He blinked, and when he reopened them, he saw not the boy anymore, but an indistinct nimbus of color.
At first, he noticed almost none of the colors he would expect. No reds or blues from the heat and exhaustion or even golds and silvers to mark his mental state. Just a blank gray that disturbed Rafe. As he looked at him closer, leaning in a little, he saw that all the everyday colors were blocking what he was looking for.
Not realizing that he had been noticed, he blinked once more and saw the boy was looking at him. He told himself what he did next was to test the boy's strength and speed, but was really just out of boredom. Running at full tilt, he jumped at the retreating boy and bared him to the ground.
He knew his master would forgive him for the small indiscretion– he hoped. It wasn't like the boy would realize what he really was.
Not yet at least.
