He was lonely. It had been a long time since he’d spoken to another of his kind, a long time since his last laugh, his last smile. As he looked at the earth above him, he sorted through his thoughts. It wasn’t really emotions he felt- he’d lost them with his colors centuries ago. It was the urge to kill while feeding, and the yearning, the desire to feel again, to wrap his arms around someone and be free of the burdens he felt.

The yearning, he thought with a shock, suddenly realizing that he was, in fact, feeling something other than the urge to kill. He felt a light presence near the edge of his mind, an elusive connection. With careful patience he reached for that thread connecting him with someone else.

Lifemate. Mine, he thought, suddenly filled with elation as he determined where the other was.

He slept, then- a smile almost curving on his lips. Wait for me, Lifemate.

Sept woke with his eyes gritty and his black hair a mess. He looked to his left, at his plastic alarm clock. It was four am. “Shoot,” he muttered to himself, rubbing his green eyes. Four hours of sleep! he thought. Am I getting insomnia?

He remembered faintly what woke him- a voice calling to him. He couldn’t remember what he dreamed of, frustrating him as he strained his memory. It seemed that once he grabbed hold of the memory, another piece of it was lost.

He leaned back on the bed, trying to fall asleep. Realizing that his efforts were futile, he got up and walked barefoot to the bathroom, yawning as he stumbled there.

It was nearly one hour later when he’d finished brushing his teeth, showering, dressing, and cooking his breakfast. He set a plate of omelet and rice on the wooden table by the kitchen window, and sat down on the chair next to it.

He looked out the window as he ate, seeing the snow outside. As he finished his last bite, his thoughts circled back to last week. When he’d told Adrian that he’d be moving out, and his roommate nodded. He just couldn’t stand living with his childhood friend. Sure, he’s my friend and all…but to be truthful, Adrian’s messy and brought his girlfriends over every week. He shuddered as he remembered going to work one day without sleep, and yelling at Adrian. He looked with pride at his small apartment, inhabited solely by himself. Neat, orderly, and quiet.

He slowly sipped at the cup of tea by his side. He still had an hour before leaving for work.

He dreamt of the warmth of his lifemate, the curve of a smile, the feeling of acceptance and compassion. He woke as the sun set, trembling- breathing unevenly in short gasps. He controlled his heartbeat and breathing as he dressed himself in dark clothes and boots, hiding a silver chain beneath his shirt.

The hunger ate at him- he’d traveled west three days without feeding. With a sigh, he used his mind to confirm that there was no one near to witness his bursting from the ground before doing so. Dusting dirt from his clothes, he started to walk near the town.

He saw a young couple near the road, and fogged their minds gently before biting into their necks and taking a few mouthfuls of blood. As he walked away, fading into the night, he withdrew from their minds, and changed into an owl, flying rapidly west. West, where my lifemate is…

“Sept, hand me that, willya?” the woman next to him asked, gesturing at the box next to him. Sept reached over, removing a pile of white paper from the box and holding it out to the woman, who grabbed it and slammed it into the printer with one hand while furiously typing with the other.

He leaned back on his chair, stretching his neck and back while rolling his shoulders lazily. He rubbed his eyes as he squinted at the board next to the door.

“Got to see Zel, ‘Ria,” he told his co-worker and friend, Aria- who was still typing as if her very life depended on her accuracy and speed.

“Go on, Sept,” she replied, her brown eyes never leaving her computer screen.

He smiled as he slipped into his black coat. He and Aria worked at a small company that sold art and jewelery, both taking care of the typing, scheduling, orders, and suchlike. Five days a week, seven hours a day minus holidays, they ran to and fro and rushed through everything from letters to website updates. But he liked the job, tiring as it was- the pay was good, and he’d always wanted a job involving art….even if he himself wasn’t the artist.

He opened the door, revealing a brightly lit hallway. As he took the elevator down, he buttoned his coat and pulled a scarf from his pocket, wrapping it around his neck.

When he got outside and started walking, he shivered. It’s the end of winter already, he lamented. And still it’s so cold… He exhaled, his breath showing in the frigid air.

He walked quickly, motivated by the chill, down the street. After a few more streets and avenues, he opened the door to an old building, walking up the stairs to the fourth floor and knocking loudly on the door there.

It opened to reveal a tall, dark-skinned woman, her apron splattered with paint. “Come in, come in,” she said, stepping back. He entered to see a room bare of everything but a computer, a cat, and art supplies. “Want anything to eat?” she asked. “I have cookies in the kitchen.”

“No thanks, Zel,” he said politely. “Anyway….I need some paintings from you….I think the ones on animals…?”

“Yeah,” she said, immediately going to the right and lifting several canvases from the floor. “These, right?” He glanced at the two paintings she held out- abstract representations of lions and wolves. He nodded.

She put them carefully into a waterproof bag, wrapping them in layers of protection. “Be careful with them…..I spent days on them,” she warned.

“I know,” he replied.

“Going now?” she asked, looking at the clock .

He nodded. “Bye,” he said to the figure bent over a canvas, painting carefully.