Vadar
Seven characteristics are in an uncultivated person, and seven in a learned one
She glows like moonlight when there is none.
With red eyes like a beacon in the coming dark, Vadar sees the distinct halo of light Starsin carries along with her long before she comes into focus. His creature is lucky enough to find her first, circling around her without sound or warning, and then he comes to greet the constellation girl hesitantly. His face is a mirror that reflects her surprise equally, but not because of who she is. There’s nothing (at first) about her that would signal any sort of recognition on his end, except the way her bruise-colored eyes level with his and how she fashions his name like an old friend.
He’s… confused. Initially. She knows me? And she does; something seizes him at the core and refuses to let go. The shadow memories he’s forgotten flash in hazy color. Those stars he thinks, glancing down from the confident tilt of her warm smile to follow where they swirl across her shoulders, down her belly, and past her hips. Her lips are something he remembers. No - something he felt, once. His head begins to ache.
“How the fuck would you know.” He blurts out, angry though he doesn’t understand exactly why. The way he was speaking felt dangerous to him. He swallowed hard and could feel the clay-fox stumble as if it were drunk. Stones fell loose from its side, one of its misshapen paws crumbled apart. I’m just trying to be your friend; the words pound like a drum in his skull, echoing over and over again. The blood on her lips. Something about the blood on her lips. “I know you.” He says uncertainly at first, and then, “I know you.”
One of his skinless knees jerks forward and at the same time, his eyes flash. A shudder of pain rips through him, his sides convulsing for a second while the clear memory sweeps over him and drags him back. It takes him to the Meadow, back to when they were together and her face had been the same. Back to when he’d been weak against her advances. Vadar steadies himself and breaths softer now, blinking away the headache to glance up and give her a raw, very unbecoming smirk of his own.
“Starsin.” He hums, the golem forgotten where it lies as dirt once more. The corners of his eyes begin to prick with what he thinks is water, but instead blood leaks over the sharp lines of his cheeks. “I wanted to give you something. Looks like I’m too late.” Vadar sighs, acutely aware of how she poises herself so beautifully. His ears flick back and forth, gathering the silence around them. They seem to be alone, and the idea of their seclusion causes that dangerous feeling to surge to the forefront of his mind again. He wonders idly how she might feel with his teeth grasping her mane, this time around.
He wonders if she would squirm against the feeling of his open, sore skin pressed on top of those pretty, pretty stars.
“Doesn’t matter.” He laughs, fresh tears flowing crimson from his pulsing, red eyes. “I’m adaptable.” The stallion murmurs, uttering something unintelligible beneath his breath afterwards. He doesn’t need the fox anymore but he dreams of something larger, something that grows from the earth behind the gray mare and gathers boulders to itself like fists. It’ll hunch in the shadows and spread its dead-branch arms out to block escape, and loom over them to brush its formless head on the now-black canopy of Sylva’s woods. “Can you guess what I’m thinking now?” Vadar challenges her softly.
@[Starsin]