Kathleen stepped down the site, her feet touching lightly on the hardbaked Kenyan soil. It was old as paleontological sites go. Well picked over, but still things weathered out of the local rock, and sometimes a partial skeleton.
After 10 years here she had an eye for small hints. Today there was something else. Something that prickled at her spine.
The monthly supplies being late didn't help. She had a few ounces of blood left, but would it last long enough? She remembered the early days, just after the change, and she had no desire to relive them. The locals would help, but she was feeling a bit contrary of late and really had no desire to impose on them.
So many discoveries made here. The first of the plains apes ever discovered. The oldest footprints made by a bipedal primate. Unless the new discoveries in Senegal paid out. The first discovery of worked stone tools.
But today? Today something nagged at her. A darkling twitch at her soul that reminded her of the man who'd essentially raped her close to three centuries ago. And it came from here.
She let her sight go slack. To her vision the world became draped with strands and threads. Threads she wove together with gesture and word into a pattern. A faint pattern that spoke of wrongness, of great age. Of something that saw her and those she knew as a momentary amusement, but other wise held no concern for her at all. A thing that where it showed any consideration for her feelings it was because her terror and disgust amused it.
Kathleen let the pattern go, closing her eyes as it dissipated. It was an old evil. Too old really for anyone of her experience to note. But she had.
Pride be damned. She needed to be alive for this. To be human. Fully alive, fully human. She sped off to the nearest village, there to seek the boon.