we scream our very souls free
This world is full of distractions, endless and meaningless but fascinating all the same. The shadow child, so easily distracted, falls prey to nearly every one of them, dragging it’s attention here and there like flotsam on a riptide. The child’s parents could hardly keep up anymore, and the little shadow takes full advantage. Briseis, who had grown so quickly protective of the three siblings, could not always have her eye on little Haunt, and even Ether struggled, despite their apparent similarities.
Of course, none of this occurs to Haunt, too caught up in such wild distraction to be bothered with harried parents.
Especially when the shadow had grasped the ability to step through shadows. Perhaps Ether regretted teaching Haunt that particular skill, but Haunt does not know this. No, the childish creature is far more intrigued by the endless possibilities this particular ability had suddenly exposed. The boy-girl had been aptly named it seems, for as it trips through the forest, stepping from one shadow to another, giggles chase it in haunting echoes. It would be so easy to believe the ghost of a child lurks in these woods, if one were superstitious enough to believe it.
It isn’t until something new and strange and infinitely more distracting tugs on well-attuned senses that the indefinable child slows it’s wild sprint. A taste in the shadow the speaks words of wonder and servitude. It’s easy to find for a creature made of shadow, who can move among them just as easily. For a moment, the only evidence of Haunt’s presence is the gleaming gold of peering eyes, bright in the darkness that it blends so well with.
That this stranger with the twisting shadows is another child only serves to further intrigue the little shadow creature, drawing it closer until it has come to stand at an uncomfortably close distance, yellow eyes boring into the stranger. It grins then, revealing tiny, pointed teeth, before snaking it’s pitch nose forward and tasting a tear.
Nose wrinkling, Haunt drags the offended tongue across pointed teeth before shaking it’s head with a snort. “You taste weird,” Haunt annonces, as though it is the most normal thing in the world.
