If people were talking or gasping or shrieking around him, Aubrey didn’t much register them. He was on his back, but his spine felt like it had been broken and stitched back together out of shape, his limbs pulled from their sockets, his field of vision suddenly limited to what was in front of him. Aubrey blinked, dizzied by that, and gave an ungainly roll off what remained of the refreshment table.
It was then he noticed the crowd of people around them, so disfigured in his vision that they felt small, or he felt like a giant, but – the old instincts remained. So as one man moved towards him, Aubrey lurched forwards with gnashing teeth, more than ready to swipe a bite at the proffered hand.
Fortunately, he saw the spell coming over the man’s shoulder, and scrambled onto all fours and then launched himself up onto two feet – the floor felt slippery, his balance a mess – but all Aubrey could think was get away, get away. Disoriented and teetering on his human legs, Aubrey shoved past the man and a couple of girls in white like a drunken beast. He didn’t spare much thought for which way to escape, because his skin felt itchy and on fire – long, dirty-fingernailed hands scrabbled savagely at his – his? – clothes. “Get ‘em off, get ‘em off me,” Aubrey muttered to himself, hardly noticing if it was coming out loud. Instead, he tore rabidly at the waistcoat and shirt and trousers and kicked furiously to get rid of the shoes, because after fifteen years of fur and prickles, being trapped in clothes felt horribly wrong.
It was then he noticed the crowd of people around them, so disfigured in his vision that they felt small, or he felt like a giant, but – the old instincts remained. So as one man moved towards him, Aubrey lurched forwards with gnashing teeth, more than ready to swipe a bite at the proffered hand.
Fortunately, he saw the spell coming over the man’s shoulder, and scrambled onto all fours and then launched himself up onto two feet – the floor felt slippery, his balance a mess – but all Aubrey could think was get away, get away. Disoriented and teetering on his human legs, Aubrey shoved past the man and a couple of girls in white like a drunken beast. He didn’t spare much thought for which way to escape, because his skin felt itchy and on fire – long, dirty-fingernailed hands scrabbled savagely at his – his? – clothes. “Get ‘em off, get ‘em off me,” Aubrey muttered to himself, hardly noticing if it was coming out loud. Instead, he tore rabidly at the waistcoat and shirt and trousers and kicked furiously to get rid of the shoes, because after fifteen years of fur and prickles, being trapped in clothes felt horribly wrong.
Formerly known as Davis, Elijah Urquart's pet hedgehog.