{ Broken Bird }

         ❝…?❞

TILT OF THE HEAD BECKONS specified answers, deliberation as to what she yearns to examine ( the machine or the man? or the bridge in-between? ) and alert—fear of something gone awry. He breathes from mechanized lungs yet knows nothing of their process, the good doctor his sole retreat whenever limbs locked in place, or if systems necessitated an upgrade. To think of another performing ‘pon his armored hide strikes apt concern, stance stiffened to bear weight o'er careful words.

         ❝I am not certain; we have only just met, after all.❞

          “My apologies.” 

          A veiled eye heeded dismay, lack of knowledge regarding a human’s heart, and the mechanical frame shaping his image inducing not blindness, but an heightened awareness born of the will to grasp its subtleties. Amidst the befalling silence, discomfort settled in, painted lips parting, and closing, to part once more, hesitant to vocalise reflections to potentially cause further unease. 

          “Your cybernetic body looks amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it before!” 

          Enthusiasm coated genuine praise toward magnificence in robotic form, supported by a canine companion now circling around a cyborg deemed as one amongst his kin. 

The night was still young, but not necessarily too early for the lovers of darkness to begin their hunting. Safety at this hour was a sweet, long lost memory since the disband of ‘peaceful keepers’ and someone ought to be either a lunatic or brave to be wandering here and there without at least the assistance of more than one.

A certain noise akin to clapping emerged from the shadows to echo through every corner of the currently deserted district. What a splendid display of skill caught the sights of the spider, much to her prey’s good fortune—or not.

“A bit clumsy, but pleasing regardless.” The tone of her voice lacked actual emotion despite the praise she generously offered and yet, she still refused to reveal her form.

          With darkness came silence, respite from boisterousness accompanying the sun’s rise, vanishing upon its fall. Thus, applause rung too loud amidst the faint buzzing of insects, just as screams of agony, followed by the thud of bodies surrounding her had, mere moments before. 

          “A sniper, right?” Vocalisations exposed distance, a localisation far from reach to all armament constructed to ensure her safety. Almost, for a mechanical hound trailed sound, out of sight, a faithful companion’s presence to be revealed the second his master would face imminent danger.