Mimic Ch. 07

Zerret panicked. He had swallowed it whole and it wasn't dead. He could still feel it. The outward battle was gone and a war of wills remained. He searched for the mind of this creature, scanned himself to find what it sought. The Cloaker mirrored his confusion. IT searched for a brain he did not possess, as he realized this creature was all instinct and hollow without a host. His new memories were of little use. None held secrets to this creature.

The core of his ancestors wept and rejoiced. He would take back what had been stolen. If he could not defeat it, he would make it part of him. He would meld it into himself, giving it purpose and kinship in his being. The creature stopped fighting, a wave of acceptance rolled threw him. His body stung just as it had when he had first awakened on the icy plains of the West Drift. He was one step closer to becoming whole. He wondered if this was the creature's thought or his.

Shifting back into a bipedal form, he turned to check on Passion and Sly. They were not there. No. He was not there? His was back in his room. Passion and Sly slept in each other's arms. Feeling them told him they were deep in sleep. The room had been moved around and other items had been added to the decor. The tall dressing mirror caught his eye.

He stepped quietly in front of the mirror. He was no longer hairless. He had long black hair that spilled down his back to a point between his shoulder blades. Eyebrows and elven shaped nose now donned his visage, which also had a silver-gray hue of a Drow high born. He did not feel overly taxed to hold his form. He felt like there was still a piece of him missing and that was a new sensation.