By the time Félix reached the forest, he could no longer cover those awful things under his thick blanket. He sprinted from the Academy's dorms all the way across the courtyard to try and escape the eyes and ears of every student and teacher alike. Of course, in the same process, he let dozens of students watch him clumsily dash along the grass in midday.
At least looking like a fool was better than resembling a monster.
The thick trees obscured the sight of the school. The light of day was cut to pieces by the thick bark. It was only then Félix let the blanket fall from his side. His shirt was torn open on the left side, and out of the gaping hole writhed maybe half a dozen vicious and black tendrils.
Félix was sweating. Of course it had to be sweat. He'd have loved, for once in his life, to experience a panic attack without all the sweat. The run made it worse, and once Félix stopped the only thing he could do was lean against a tree and struggle to catch his breath.
His right arm, the one that still looked human, tried to find Félix some scrap of comfort in keeping the rest of his collared shirt in place, as well as those roguish dangling strands of hair.
Just go away. Just go away. Félix thought to himself, but all the same yelled at whatever monstrosity hid in his spirit. The tendrils didn't listen. Most of the time, he could at least control them, but the most he could manage this time was keeping them from growing any larger. Or more numerous.
At least looking like a fool was better than resembling a monster.
The thick trees obscured the sight of the school. The light of day was cut to pieces by the thick bark. It was only then Félix let the blanket fall from his side. His shirt was torn open on the left side, and out of the gaping hole writhed maybe half a dozen vicious and black tendrils.
Félix was sweating. Of course it had to be sweat. He'd have loved, for once in his life, to experience a panic attack without all the sweat. The run made it worse, and once Félix stopped the only thing he could do was lean against a tree and struggle to catch his breath.
His right arm, the one that still looked human, tried to find Félix some scrap of comfort in keeping the rest of his collared shirt in place, as well as those roguish dangling strands of hair.
Just go away. Just go away. Félix thought to himself, but all the same yelled at whatever monstrosity hid in his spirit. The tendrils didn't listen. Most of the time, he could at least control them, but the most he could manage this time was keeping them from growing any larger. Or more numerous.