This work is written by and © copyright to A. F. Parker (Styx) 2006 and may not be copied in part or whole for any reason.

He sat up in bed, instantly feeling sick and tired and dizzy all at once. But also alert. His sensitive ears listened intently as his eyes swiftly scanned the form lying beside him, nude atop the sheets. He could hear her steady breathing, the small snuffling noises she softly made in her sleep every so often. He felt her twitch a little. Perhaps in her dreams she was in hot pursuit of some creature he had never before seen. He smiled as his eyes shifted away from her, his long lavender hair tickling aginst his back as he moved. She was of the same breed as him, and his mate. His one and only, more special to him than anything to have graced the galaxy. She could have been more attractive he supposed, her face was nice with high cheekbones, but the bridge of her nose had a lump in it from being broken on numerous occasions- not by him, of course. Her breasts were not large nor small, nearly a handful. She always stated she had an "overly substantial ass" and he never disagreed with her. Her thighs were unusually thick, powerful as the haunches of a jackrabbit and she didn’t find them appealing either, nor would many men. Still, despite her flaws, he found her incredibly attractive. Her frame deliciously curvaceous in his opinion. He looked to the clock atop the television set in their room at the foot of their bed against the wall. Four thirty the clock told him in a series of lines unlike those of human clocks, but similar. He stared at the wall, not really seeing it or anything else, instead focusing all of his attention to his ears, to listening to the cry of that bird that sounded vaguely familiar, and entirely foreign at the same time. A few seconds later, it’s call echoed through the night again. This must have been what had awakened him. In the back of his mind he felt the twisting nausea of hunger. It had been over seven hours since he’d last ate and he definitely felt it. The bird called again, haunting and almost hawk-like, yet not. Something of a peacock and an eagle fused, but not tremendously loud or piercing. The bird did to sound dangerous, not large at all, maybe the size of a medium sized dog. He breathed heavily through his nose in an attempt to cool himself. Despite the open window and the cold night air, the room held onto it’s intense heat due to the lack of an effective draft of any kind. The night air beyond the single window must have been dead still. Strange, he usually heard at least one person out at night, for night was one of the most wonderful times to be awake. He glanced at the clock. Five. He slid from the bed, creeping to the window upon bare feet and stood by the window, pulling back the curtains, feeling the cool air caress his naked flesh. It felt soothing to breathe the crisp air; it smelt clean, as always. He peered out into the night with his keen eyes of the deepest gold, gazing out into the pitch black, lightless city beyond…