Talon POV

POV Detected: Talon

We’re out in the field, searching for Ky’s lost boyfriend. Ky isn’t talking to anyone, and her outfit has been retailored to fit. During Metamorphosis, people’s bodies grow to superhero proportions, as mine, Crescent’s, Pitch’s, and the Dirthawkers have. The Dirthawkers haven’t gone through Metamorphosis, so somehow they naturally grew to superheroic proportions, probably due to their powers developing during puberty. Now, all of us Serephimbian Agents are taller, bigger, faster, stronger than average.

“Eeek!” Gena yells, and we all rush over to her. She laughs.

“Just kidding?” she offers when we all look at her angrily. I punch her in her feathery shoulder and duck as she tries to knock me out with the front part of her wing. I grab for her front paw, but she moves out of the way and goes to flick me with her tail, but I catch it and she hits me in the face, cutting my cheek. Suddenly, I’m lifted up by the back of my jacket. I struggle, but can’t get any leverage on the person.

“Let me go or I’m going to kill you!” I threaten. They laugh. She sets me down and I turn around. It’s Ky.

“As much as I’d like to see you try, you two need to knock it off,” she narrows her eyes as her mood goes back to her normal mopiness. “Now.” She drops me and lets go of Gena, turning and walking off.

“Geez, ok, mom!” I say under my breath. I realize my mistake as one of her cat ears turns towards me.

“Would you like to repeat that for everyone else to hear?” she asks. I glare at her and stomp off. Gena follows me.

“Sorry, Tal,” she says, when I stop and sit on a fallen log a while away from everyone else.

“It wasn’t your fault, Ge. We were playing. Ky is just being a jerk because of her boyfri- sorry, fiancee. Just `cause he got captured doesn’t mean that we can’t have fun. Stupid adults think that they always have to be in charge,” I rant.

“How old are you, anyway?” she asks. I sigh.

“16 and a couple of months.”

“You’re younger than I thought,” she comments. “I have no idea how old I am.”

“When’s the youngest you remember?”

“Ummm... a long time ago, but I wasn’t a baby, I was the same size that I am now,” she comments thoughtfully. “I remember lots of boats with shields and people with horns on their heads, attacking each other. There was a lot of blood and fire.”

“So… Viking times? 800-1066 AD?” she stares at me blankly. I sigh. Some things that you learn never go away. Or, in my case, nothing goes away. “Never mind. We should probably find the group.”

[POV End]