finally found in the mist

*Vampiress Aura* Aura wasn't supposed to bloom. She woke in the moss where the swamp forgot itself green skin still cracked from drying, little ivory horns still soft, lavender hair tangled with last season's leaves. The other fae hissed, "Vampire." She tried to be smaller. She stitched herself a dress from what the forest lost: black burlap with skulls, a purple ruffle someone dropped at a carnival, patches of turquoise and flowered cotton. She tied it with twine. She learned not to bite. Instead, she cried pink tears that hardened into little beads, and she left them on mushrooms for lost travelers to find their way home. Tonight the mist is thick. Aura stands on her rock, claws out, fangs showing just a little, waiting not to scare, but to be seen. And someone finally sees her and says, "Pretty."