"I'm not humam."
I close my eyes and listen to the wind - and I don't hear the thundering, whipping sound I expect. I hear the ancient language that belongs to the wind and the wind alone. It whispers of the places it's been.
Of change.
Of power.
Of freedom.
I want to listen forever. And that's when I know.
I'm not humam.
I have no idea what I am, or what I'm supposed to do with that revelation. But it doesn't stop it from being true.
A lurch in my stomach rips me back to reality and I open my eyes. We're falling, fast and hard. I can't be sure - but I have a feeling the girly scream comes from me.
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