@ghostobservers
2 A.M. There he stood, in someone else’s blood soaked skin. Wha was left of his old self in heaps around his feet. A bloody hand against the cement wall for support. Shifting always wore him out, but he had to know. As much as he had no reason to believe the man had lied to him, it also sounded so unlikely. Del played it safe.
He gave a shaky sigh, closing his eyes to concentrate, slipping into the other’s mind. Prodding through his memories, looking for his reasons for trying to get into his warehouse. He was genuinely surprised that he had been telling the truth. That didn’t stop Del from prodding on further, curious as to what actually made him choose this sort of life. Was it selfish? Yes. He should have left well enough alone. He shouldn’t have stayed in his mind too long, but he couldn’t help but linger, walking the metaphorical halls of his memories.
What a strange individual. But the shifter was no stranger to strange.










