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Lupa glanced around the room, her eyes perfectly adjusted to the darkness. Tyrell’s hardly saw the light of day. They worked at night and disappeared to their windowless, stone hideouts at day to sleep away the planning and bruises of scuffles and chases.

Lupa could see the shadows of everyone moving about her, their voices mixed together. Night-vision was also a side-effect of being a wolf-shifter. But after all her days under the moon, she didn’t think it made much of a difference. She was the day messenger, subjected to running words between the rebel groups while the sun was in the sky, but she didn’t like it anymore than the other Tyrell’s.

Then everyone was moving forward, pulling others with them. A hole in the ceiling. She turned numbly to it, repelled by the light streaming through it. The others assisted one another in scrambling through it, but Lupa hung back in a shadow, unwilling to put herself in the light.

<i>The light is dangerous. No where to hide. Azreil </i><i>cannot survive in the light. We live in darkness. </i>

But she didn’t like the idea of staying in the creepy castle alone, so as the last people exited the hole, she moved closer.

Harsh beams of light made her eyes water as she squeezed them closed and pulled herself through the hole and onto the roof. She sat, squinting. There was no cover here, no where to melt away. She felt venerable and moved away from the others, and in doing, almost crashed into someone. Alessio, they had said his name was.

She glared at him, irritated about having to subject herself to the sunlight. But something in his eyes made her feel more sympathetic.

“Hello?” She asked slowly.

@this-is-not-an-alien