[open] gonna getcha', i betcha' ; anyone

[tannor]

now i know ya thought that ya had me played
the check is in my hand, i got it made

Look, I know I have this very ...How should we say it? ...Well known "habit". I come home, I ruffle some feathers and then I wander back off before the dust has even had a chance to settle. I've never been the type of man you could rely on, put your trust in to follow through with what he says. I make big promises on fluffy clouds filled with glitter. I know it, you know it. The only difference? It doesn't effect me.

Now before you say anything, might I point out, that not every evil or tortured mind can be dark with a side of gentleman. Logically, that gentleman gene tends to skip over a few of us, and luckily for my emotions and slowly beating heart, it just happened to skip me.

Now, that isn't to say that I don't feel anything of the "kind" or "loving" sort. I have felt love in my lifetime, though only twice. One instance was whenever I was at Caw's side. The other was when our twins, Requite and Plague were born.  And then I felt heartache. When I left the love of my life and my son, plague, and took Requite to learn in another land the same teachings that the demons had once taught me.

Lastly, I had felt the form of regret, just once. It had haunted me like a war-torn spirit, digging it's claws deep within until finally I had expressed it outright. I attempted to change. To earn forgiveness, and once I had from the ones that mattered most, I drew back into the shadows once more. Now here I am again, standing at the meadow's edge, staring blankly out into the world that stretched before me.

------------------------------------
It's a cool afternoon and a slight breeze dances across the tips of the green grasses. The overcast skies are plump with rain and the faintest of drizzles begins to fall across the surrounding area as the silver stallion stands motionless and barely breathing. Here he is again. It's been one too many times now. But despite that, the silence is almost welcoming. He had always enjoyed when the meadow was at peace - when weather like this drove most to stay in their cozy hides of their kingdoms, caves and forests.

For a while he stands there, enjoying it. Truly taking in the silence and savoring it. That is, until the soft caw of a crow sings out from overhead and his all black eyes are slowly diverted upwards towards the floating creature in the sky. Caw. The name remains in his mind, but it's loud enough within him that he could have actually said it. I'll find you, he silently promises before slowly moving his gaze back down to the meadow. For a moment he is unsure of where to go, and then suddenly his legs begin to move without any true destination in mind. 

A stroll. That's all he needs. His muscles were tense with the nerves that had been building during the entire trip back to Beqanna and for a while it's almost like he is moving mechanically. Until finally the chrome colored stallion begins to relax. Though why isn't entirely known.

"There's nothing like home." Isn't that how the saying goes?

He still isn't relaxed enough to be approachable, but then again, when had he ever been? Let's be real here. Though despite that, at this point, after spending such a long time in solitude... Company wouldn't necessarily be a negative thing... If he could choose between the good or the bad, he'd probably choose both. At this point in time he had no preferences. The self-exiled do tend to get bored after all.

Tannor

long live the king

THANKS VENGE !

[glim]

Glim has grown.

Did she want to? No, not necessarily but she’d had no say in the matter. No say at all in how her body betrayed her and blossomed into a small lovely shape that suggested she was a version of her mother in miniature. 

Glim was not Caw though.

Never could be.

Never would be.

She was supple and willowy in the way that wild horses are. Bramble-maned and fast on her feet. Still spotty and silly.

But she is not without a roil of shadows that follow her. Sometimes they coalesce into a singular shape that she happens to favor that day. It could be a lynx or a buzzard. Might even be a pygmy hippo! Nonetheless it is diligent in its murky trail behind her with only sharp yellow eyes to distinguish it from any other ordinary shadow.

On this afternoon of rainy drizzle; the spotted mare - still strange to think of herself as that - is followed by a shadow-lynx. She gallops and he slinks. He pounced and she shrieks. It’s all play; no harm or foul. His shadow-teeth grasp a delicate ankle but she shakes him off easily. 

Their games take them far across the grasslands until winded, the spotty mare slows to a crawling walk and her shadow-companion joins her. Rain still comes down. Glim grows damp from it but has no care - rain is rain. Besides the grass and rivers need it. Which in a way meant she did too.

But there was an odd flash of brilliance on the drizzling plains that gave her pause. Something silver, like the promised edge of a cloud or a cold sharp blade. No matter, she was drawn to it and worked her way over to the stallion. Glim didn’t know it yet but she’d seen him once before - long ago when Caw summoned them all to her, lovers and children both. 

She’d been the youngest then. Just a girl. Now she was older and the memory of him stirred halfheartedly inside her brain. Maybe if she squinted at him, that memory would surface but it remained elusive and he was not. She inched her nose out to him to get a whiff of his smell then snapped it smartly back to her buckskin breast. 

“Do I... know you?”

something in his smell told her so but she questioned it nonetheless.

@[tannor]