not quite grace, not quite beauty // joiner

[VALE]

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Steam coiled out of the spaces between Vale’s teeth, until the flesh began to grow anew over the jaguar’s exposed skull. The shapeshifter shed flesh and discarded mutations quicker than crocodiles replaced their teeth. When ze turned to the panther, one of zir red eyes finished forming.

“Your voice sounds funny,” Vale said. It reminded zir of a time before all of this animalistic shit—when ze had been in a shithole world dominated by humans. The memories pressed behind zir eyes, itching for zir to remember the brother ze’d tried to save from the dead. Asking zir once again to look for the innocent ze’d dragged into this world for zir selfishness; Clarence couldn’t adapt, not like ze could, didn’t adapt as easily as—

Vale’s bone tail flicked, vertebrae separating and flexing. “I’m Vale.” Zir head tilted, the muscle and skin reformed. As though the puddle of blood and flesh between zir paws was a piece of meat and not a pound of flesh. “Well. I just joined. I’ll be staying until I get bored, I suppose.”

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