His life thus far has been a simple one. One filled with days spent doing exactly as he pleased, largely ignoring what others did unless it suited him. No doubt his parents found him particularly burdensome, but he hadn’t the forethought to care overly much. Not when there were far more interesting things to do.

Things like meet strange and fascinating young women in dark forests.

Still, these are stories he keeps to himself. Not that anyone beyond his parents would be terribly interested. And likely, they didn’t truly wish to know what he was actually up to. Certainly the majority of the time, he wasn’t even entirely sure. Needless to say, it was often of the troublemaking variety.

Now though? He is less than pleased by how events had unfolded. Truthfully, he probably shouldn’t care so much, but that kind of logic has no place in Darkling’s young mind. Fortunately he is not one to hold grudges, and ultimately he finds himself more intrigued than annoyed.

Which is also very annoying.

He’d been following him. He’s quite certain of his success, though no doubt he has been far less successful than he might have wished. After all, he can’t see. How could he possibly know he was being followed?

This is the logic that sustains him as he creeps through the shadows he unconciously tucked so closely around him, narrowed gaze fixed on his newest half-sibling. The one he still hasn’t entirely decided whether or not he really cares for.

you're burning up the sky, you're a constellation
I think that I could die for this revelation

Whether fortunate or unfortunate, young Darkling hasn’t the sense to be intimidated by anything, much less the idle threats of his own younger sibling. Rather than retreat when he realizes the little half-beast had discovered his presence, he merely huffs irritably, ears flattening briefly. Of course, as is the way of fickle-natured boys like Darkling, his irritation lasts only long enough to silently mimic is brother as he announces his name and demands to know who he is.

In fact, that small, petty act serves only to bring out the impishness that never quite seems to disappear. Suddenly, a wide grin stretches his lips as he drops his head low, tail twitching, flicking with intermittent sharpness at his golden haunches. At his side, the shadows begin to bulge and grow, writhing almost painfully until a shape begins to coalesce. A shape that vaguely resembles the horn-eyed dragon. With a slow deliberacy, the somewhat shoddily crafted replica (he’s still learning, after all. Close enough) reaches up to drag claw marks alongside the first set.

“Are you?” he asks quizzically, his voice almost lyrical. “Are you Ghaul?”

To the casual bystander, it may appear entirely nonsensical. Indeed, it likely seems just as nonsensical to Ghaul. But that’s something Darkling hardly bothers to concern himself with. To his mind, it’s a cleverly hilarious joke. The fact that it is likely neither clever nor hilarious is not something he concerns himself with either.

Smirking, he turns to the shadow creature and introduces himself with a barely suppressed snicker. “You are Ghaul. I am Darkling. Hello.”

you're burning up the sky, you're a constellation
I think that I could die for this revelation

Of course it’s impossible for Darkling to know shadows give no traceable signature to the blind. With the hastily crafted creature’s lack of scent or sound, it may as well be entirely non-existent to his confused sibling. Except, of course, for the fact that the claws that had swiped stone are as real and dangerous as Ghaul’s own.

It’s likely fortunate then, that Darkling hasn’t yet the sense to realize just how dangerous a weapon he could craft from mere thought. To this point, his nature had been nothing more than that of a flighty and fickle boy, and no clever or conniving mentors had as yet risen to take advantage of his unshapen future.

Instead, as Ghaul twists his head, sightlessly trying to determine what was happening, Darkling snickers, the shadowy twin twisting around to mimic Ghaul’s strange movements. When his brother presses closer however, Darkling snorts in suddenly perplexed annoyance, dark eyes nearly crossing as he tries to keep the half-monster in his sights. Ears flipping back, he leans back even as Ghaul leans in, neck wrinkling as his chin presses uncomfortably downwards.

The whuffles of Ghaul’s breath tickle his face, and he snorts again. Moments later, apparently satisfied with his investigation, Ghaul retreats, leaving Darkling pressed irritably against the rock as he eyeballs his brother with open suspicion.

Tail flicking against his haunches, Darkling snorts again. In his distraction, the shadow Ghaul had stopped mimicking it’s inspiration, but as he resettles, the creature creeps forward, placing itself ostensibly nearby. The uncertainly spoken words however, set Darkling aback, and he narrows his eyes at his draconic sibling.

After a brief moment of consideration, a faint, decidedly devilish gleam enters Darkling’s eye. “Play a game with me, and maybe we’ll see.”

you're burning up the sky, you're a constellation
I think that I could die for this revelation

Of the many things Darkling has not yet come to understand in his youth, friendship is perhaps one of the more perplexing. Unlike most children his age, he had not felt a particularly strong need to seek the approval of peers in the form of friendship. And so Ghaul’s questioning statement is as equally foreign to Darkling as his refusal is to Ghaul.

Without a solid understanding for the parameters of this supposed friendship, he is not at all certain what it might entail. In a way, his insistence that they play a game is his rather inept way of determining those boundaries.

Of course, Darkling had always had trouble boundaries, so perhaps it doesn’t matter anyway.

In the same way that Ghaul demonstrates his uncertainty in the clicking of his nails and shuffling of his wings, Darkling unconsciously displays the same in the unnecessary flicking of his tail. Ghaul’s words however, draw a wary expression to Darkling’s features, and he eyes his brother curiously, wondering just what sort of “friends” he had been making.

Unable to help himself, Darkling almost immediately snips in return, “Are they truly your friends then?” He pauses briefly, gaze narrowing speculatively. “Or did they just tell you that as a way to control you?”

In those few words is perhaps the real reason Darkling has no true concept of friendship. After all, such a thing requires a certain amount of trust he struggles to summon. Still, he doesn’t truly expect an answer to his riddles.

Suddenly, a grin tugging at his lips, he continues, “A fun game, I promise.”

you're burning up the sky, you're a constellation
I think that I could die for this revelation