She would have had to have been blind not to see how her great grandfather’s emerald green eyes flashed with disapproval the moment he witness her mother and sister approaching with her in toe. Even her grandfather couldn’t keep his nostrils from involuntarily flaring at the sight of her, having hunted the things lurking in the dark for his entire life. Now as she wandered aimlessly to her favorite graveyard she began to feel more alone than ever. Often her sister would joke with her, telling her she was the oddball in the family, but was it truly a joke? Or was it the truth? None on her mother’s side were the deep black she was and none had burning bones for legs. This thought caused her to stop and look down at the green flames licking at the exposed bone on her legs. No matter how often her mother told her she was beautiful and nothing like a monster she often struggled with the idea that it was nothing more than a lie. Even her glowing green eyes caused her aunt Searlait to shiver when they were upon her. They all loved her of course…or did they? Were they just being kind to her out of a kindness toward their own blood?
“Amelia, you look just as wonderful as your father.” Her mother would tell her in moments of reflection. It was as though her mother were speaking of some dark and beautiful angel but Amelia could not see herself as either of those things. “You are not a monster!” Her mother had scolded her after she relayed what she had heard from a raven off in the woods. Amelia enjoyed feeling as though she frightened others and at times felt a craving to go off and catch a rat for lunch. What was she? Certainly one with Angeni blood should not be thinking of such a terrible thing? Her identity was her biggest enemy and she didn’t know which way to turn. Monster? Or Angel?
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