They say beauty is only skin deep. But what about beast? Does a wild animal live in their heart of hearts, the claws curled and muzzle stained a forever red? Does the breath catch in their chest, eyes darting from side to side like a leopard caged? Or is it something more, deeper, something vicious and untouchable? An inner beast brought forth by light dappled in shadows, good shrouded in bad? Would it possess them? Seize control in a series of furious howls, teeth snapping as it screamed at their wind of choice? Or would it sit, patient and tempered, quietly waiting in easy defiance? Would benign actions be corrupted by the silent monster, by jealousy, hatred, your fear?

(C)