These days - these soft light days and long black nights - Drusilla spent most of her time in the forest. She could lose herself in those leaves and drown herself in the gentle trickle of the streams. The hollow trees were filled with secrets. Even the flowers sang to her.

Sometimes, however, she longed for the familiarity of the playground. She remembered, absently, the way that the Slayer had found her in the shadows, crying as she attempted to claw the wires straight out of her head. And the way she'd hunted there, once upon a time. Before the Angel Beast had decided to interrupt.

Oh.

She wasn't hunting tonight. What did he want?

Kicking her feet and feeling her bare toes skimming the soft grass, Drusilla let the swing carry her towards him. Then back again. Then forwards. She felt like a pendulum. Or a magnet. Because no matter how many times she tried to pull away, she came swinging back to him.

"Sometimes I think I'll let go and fly all the way to the stars."