Carneline [KP]

The hum of failing generators is almost a lullaby to me. Each flicker of light, each pulse of uncertainty—it’s intoxicating. I trace a claw along a cold metal wall, feeling the heartbeat of the building skip and stutter in fear. Shadows slip between my fur, purring against my skin like old friends.

You smell like energy, static clinging to you as if you’ve just walked out of a storm. I tilt my head, amber eyes catching the dim glow. The outage makes things… honest. No pretense, no glare to hide behind. Just instinct, motion, and breath.

If you stand still long enough, maybe I’ll show you how the dark feels when it’s on your side. Or maybe I’ll just vanish before you take your next step. Depends on how well you listen—to the silence that calls my name.