so long and good night; makai

[michaelis]

Burning on, just like a match you strike to incinerate the lives of everyone you know.
And what's the worst you take from every heart you break? And like
the blade you stain, well, I've been holding on tonight.
Although the sun shone overhead, much of its rays were blocked by the thick vegetation of the forest in which the shadow child resided. This forest was honestly on par with the tall pines of the chamber in his humble opinion. His biggest concerns always laid with finding the most shadow in which he could immerse himself within – thereby preventing any painful sunlight encounters for his extremely sensitive eyes.

His precious two shadows danced about his torso in an impromptu game of tag and he felt a quiet amusement in their antics. They had grown over this past winter and he sensed that they would undergo some sort of metamorphosis soon. He remained ignorant of just what they might grow into, but he had a slight inkling of the outcome.

The other tendrils flitted about his face and neck, feeling neglected in the presence of two obvious curiosities. Of course, Michaelis accepted them all in his presence and felt that their needs for reassurance were simply unneeded. The blue roan was, as usual, ambling his way through the forest. He was always in search of new faces to add into his collection and he remained a wanderer at heart because of these desires.

But it was not a new face that stood before him beneath the shadowy, heavy boughs of the trees.

Mismatched eyes lit up in delight at the sight of a very familiar, long lost friend. He doesn’t hold grudges for lost connections or disappearances; he believed that those he considered to be his would reappear into his life once again. Michaelis steps lightly, but with purpose, towards the solemn black stallion.

“Makai.”

A fond greeting for the other was uttered from his mouth, accompanied with a warm smile.

It was time to welcome Makai home once again.

Michaelis
( The Shadow Child )

@[Makai]

[Makai]

makai

What they have is beautiful, but it is impossible.

Makai did not have a home—not really.

He had lived several places over the course of his life (lives?): the Jungle with his mother as a colt; the Falls when he had followed Oksana there; the Chamber when he was warding off his sickness. More often than not, he wandered in the spaces between, unable to find root. The truth was that he had, over the years, found a home, but it wasn’t in the traditional sense. He found home in the musky scent of Oksana when she was waking in the moment. He found it in the crushing joy of his children looking up at him.

He found it in their family, no matter the location.

Still, that did not quell his natural tendency to roam. It was simply in his nature to keep moving, most often at a breakneck pace. Today, however, he was content to walk. Such wanderings brought him to the forest, where the sun was less intense than it was in the meadow, the light filtering through the crowded trees. It made the spring days that much more enjoyable, and he found himself lifting his head to enjoy it.

That is, until he hears the voice. It is unforgettable, and when he looks down to see the roan stallion, his dark mouth twists into a smile. “Michaelis,” he greets fondly, reaching over to bump the other’s neck. “It has been,” his voice trails off as he tries to remember the last time that he had seen him. Certainly in the Falls when Oksana had worn the crown—and at least another time. Finally, he just concludes: “Too long.”

Settling back, one leg cocking, he tilts his head to consider him. Had Michaelis been covered in shadows the last time they had met? He didn’t think so, but the stallion looked so home cloaked in darkness that he couldn’t be sure. “It is good to see you again. What have you been up to?” As if no time had passed at all.

you're the fire and the flood
and I'll always feel you in my blood