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FOURTEEN | SONGBIRD

“Falmer?” I asked, very quietly.

He was stood against the house, leaning back against the bricks. With his dark hair and all-black outfit, he blurred into the velvet cloak of the night. As I stepped closer, however, his sharp, crow-like features were clearly recognisable.

“Ellis,” he said coolly, by way of greeting. His eyes were narrowed, no more than two dark slits dug into his face. Then his gaze dropped, and his eyes widened. “Are you okay?” He asked, his voice softening.

“Fine,” I said, though my thigh throbbed and the scratches down my arm ached. “I was thirsty,” I added, by way of an explanation. “I – there’s no more human blood. The donors left.” I knew I was rambling, as I often did when I needed to cover up something that wasn’t the entire truth. The more detail I could give, the more convincing I thought I was being.

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