A summer night led them there, by moonlight they traveled – father and daughter. Father much bigger than daughter, much darker, much thicker. Their eyes did glow together, though, like beads of bright glass they catch the silver light of the moon as they walk quietly down the narrow path. The lands are all different since the father has been gone, Kota too, though they’ve been separated for a year or so now. Kota watched the mountain rise, she watched her toil for a whole day to build it. Things have been stripped, times have changed, the world has morphed and melted only to  be reformed again before the young girl’s very eyes. Chemdog barely finds any concern within himself when it comes to Beqanna’s faded scars and new terrain, new barriers and different schemes. He lets his daughter lead the way, she apparently knows where it is she would like to go…He, however, has no preferences so far.

Somewhat blindly he follows her down the wooded pathways that twist and carve between the thick, sentinel bodies of ancient reaching trees. The mists are starting to accumulate, to settle after dancing in from the great beyond – wherever the mists live during the bright, hot days of summer only to crawl out in the moonlight or on a moist rainy day. My daughter is like the mists, he thinks to himself as he follows her pale body through the shadows. He grins to himself, seeing her mother’s fierceness in her, his own tenacity and cleverness in her voice and her actions. He’s legitimately proud of his little healing daughter of fog and stone. Solid, cold, wet-eyed predator – fluid yet together, smooth, silent little wanderer; fog and stone and certainly some other fun forces she has yet to discover of herself just yet. Fire will be sure to surface soon enough, I’m sure.

“Kyrie darling,” [as in valkyrie; he pronounces it ‘Ky -  Ree’] his throat clears and he jogs to catch up to his slender, silent-footed child. “Where is it we’re headed…exactly?” His daughter’s icy eyes flicker and he can see a grin on her rosy little lips. He laughs, knowing she will only say things in convoluted form or nothing at all. 

c h e m d o g

in absentia luci, tenebrae vincunt

“Well hello,” His head whips to lay a pair of lit teal eyes on the smoky mare. He moves toward her without hesitation, offering her the end of his dark silk-skin nose, long whiskers reaching out several inches from where their base. The winter is bringing on his thickened coat and with it comes a scraggly beard dripping from his chin, each coming year makes it thicker and longer. “Neon.” He repeats her name, molests it over his tongue, grinning and gently finding her lips and then moving slowly back to touch her neck, touching just below where her mane falls behind her cheekbone. “You’re quite beautiful, my smoke colored friend.” He pulls away, swiftly if she lashes out at him, quiet and slow if she does not.

“Chemdog.” His tail flips across his hocks, it is heavy with dreads and almost drags behind him. He peers at her side ways, letting his long forelock tumble off of his faces and covering his other eye, exposing one to examine her. “My pleasure to meet you, Miss Neon.” His eyes slide to his daughter who’s promptly ignoring them both, looking for this male who apparently runs this whole operation here. Chemdog has little concern for finding this stallion – clearly if he wasn’t allowed to be here, he would have figured it out by now, so fuck it, I’ll set up shop.

“Don’t mind my daughter dearest, Kota, you probably won’t see her much anyways and she’ll most likely never acknowledge anyone even when you do see her…so..seriously,” He mocks a sigh, “Just never mind her.” He looks  over and his pale daughter bends one ear to them and moves off to disappear into the shadows without a sound. She’s waited long enough and her father clearly seems to have found what he needs in a home. Food, water, vagina. He’s all set.

His eyes drift back to Neon. “You alone?” His grin straightens, deepens even and his teal eyes widen just a smidge. He doesn’t take any setps forward or even lean in, they are alone now and such actions (though he wants to so very badly) may scare such a rape-able little thing – he wouldn’t want to do that, no no. Charmer, not a rap-er. Well. Most days.

c h e m d o g

in absentia luci, tenebrae vincunt

He watches the suspicion swim in her steely eyes and his grin does not waver. “I am not sure what I’ve come for exactly, but I think I’ll stay.” He looks out onto the morphing horizon. Golden rays threaten to peak through the tops of the leafless oak, once the sun rises completely, light will cloak its naked branches. The tips of his coming winter coat are already lit at their ends, catching the luminance like silken webs. The galaxy of speckles across his charcoal coat seem to dance as he starts to move closer and then passed the mare.

“Shall we walk?” He holds his nose to the chilly breeze blowing through, taking a deep breath. “It is a beautiful morning to wander, don’t you say?” His lips brush her shoulder rather brazenly and he moves off in at lofty trot  out into the open, stopping to look back “Will you show me around then, Neon?” His ears flip up and then back and then up again, his feet restlessly stepping in place. He’s rather ready for a run, he feels, hoping she’s up for much of the same.

c h e m d o g

in absentia luci, tenebrae vincunt