There was a breeze, and the white curtain moved with it like some kind of specter, waving and falling. All that was missing were some b-movie moans.
He was in a bed, and looking around, there was a bedside table with a pack of Marlboro Reds on it and a lighter. He sat up, put his feet on the floor and lit one, taking a huge lungful of smoke with organs that were not his.
It didn't matter. It never did. The body was his now, and would probably be until it somehow got destroyed.
With the cigarette dangling from his lips, aware that he was not where he should have been, Saerian went to the front door and opened it.
He immediately heard a loud roar in the distance, one that he remembered.
He almost sighed, then caught himself. Just because he remembered these fucking things didn't mean the humans he knew were here did. He'd better react, and he'd better get better at blending. And get some information.
Fast.
So he let the cigarette fall out of his mouth, let the eyes on this body go wide, and backed up off of the porch of the little house to get a better look at the roaring monster.