[open] you always said you'd drive me crazy

[margot]

Small and spindly as she might be, Margot immediately possesses the fierce strength of her mother. She is clearly Desire’s daughter: the proud tilt of her chin, the coy curve of her smile, the taunting gleam in her eye. As she learns and learns at a rate that seems impossible, her beautiful heritage becomes more and more obvious.

From her father comes a big heart, as wide and as open as the sea’s horizon. Brilliant and gleaming, it practically emits a glow from her chest. As sweet as a summer-ripened plum, one can see her blooming as brightly as the Pampas’ springtime wildflowers. It is almost as the girl knows she is lovely, almost as if one can tell she has an ulterior motive hidden behind those wide doe-eyes.

She is weaving between her father’s legs, giggling as she tries to trip him; and he is staring at her with such adoration in her eyes that she feels invincible.

“I want to run ahead, Daddy!” she tells him, squealing and coming to a stop just ahead of him. Her legs splay out and she swings her head from side to side, watching things in the over-excited way children exist. She then sprints ahead clumsily, only half-listening when Thomas yells for her to not go too far.

Before Margot knows it, she is standing at the River’s edge, staring down at the crystal clear water babbling over pebbles.

“Whoa,” she says, then swings her head around to look for Thomas. He wasn’t there yet, but she is certain he’ll be there soon—he always is.

[Niklas]

my shadow's shedding skin ...

They flock to the darkest reaches of the Forest, those that fancy themselves as bottomless and twisted as his shadows. Some of them try to control it, his darkness, tugging at his shadows with obnoxious insistence of a petulant child. When his favored haunts grow too populated for his tastes, he moves on, and it is sometime near the witching hour that he sets out south. Ramsey slinks at his heels, head slung low. She grumbles deep in her chest – a creature of the underworld, she is not entirely comfortable with her topside existence, but she is tethered to him as he is to her. Snow sizzles beneath their brimstone feet as they move in companionable silence, the drifts growing deeper as they leave the close confines of the northern Forest, then more hard-packed as they reach the shores of the River.

The grey of winter dawn has given way to the dull hues of a winter afternoon by the time they’re free of the Forest. Here the water moves quietly, wending through the monochromatic landscape. It’s not cold enough to ice the free-flowing water over, but still his breath curls from his nostrils in a thin vapor. How he despises the cold of winter. His lanky, nearly skeletal frame never one to grow a proper coat, he pulls the darkness around him like a thick cloak. Ramsey laps her fill from the frigid waters and roams further south, disappearing out of immediate sight just as a distant shout fills the hollow silence. It’s too far away for him to discern the words, so he stares in the general direction with narrowed, pupil-less eyes.

It is only a minute or two later before the youth emerges from the shelter of the Forest, vivacious and carefree. She skitters to a halt, marveling at the water as it trips and tumbles over the rock-bed, blissfully ignorant of the nearly-invisible demon watching her. She glances up and around, excitement and zest for life dancing in her wide eyes. The urge to taint that zest, to drag it from her and sup on it like the warped creature he is, spurs him to drop his cloak of shadows when she’s looking in his direction. A wide smile tugs at dry lips, his eyes now an inviting blue, stark against his dull, black coat. “What is a little sprite like you doing out here on your own?” he asks with a crocodile smile. He knows she isn’t alone, of course, the shout earlier did not belong to her, but still he asks …

@ margot

[margot]

She’s not a simple girl, sweet Margot, but she’s only ever known monsters.

Her parents, lovely and protective as they may be, keep company with the creatures of Pangea; and frankly, Margot has always found them magnificent. From creeping stillness and glittering scales, she has always thought she fit right in despite her lovely white fur and big, blinking eyes.

This monster, the one peering down at her as if she might make a fine meal, reminds her of her uncle. Why should she be afraid of him if the only demon she’s ever known has fawned over her loveliness? She mistakes the hunger in Niklas’ gaze for the excitement of Uncle Draco’s when he agrees to join her in some silly game.

What is this, if not another silly game?

“Sprite!” Margot parrots, blinking those swirling lavender and pink eyes up at the stranger. “I’m a sprite!” she quips, then prances a little circle in front of the demon. Surely he wants to play a game like all the rest of her doting adults.

“My papa is somewhere back there,” she finally answers, coming to a clumsy halt and grinning up at Niklas. Margot throws a casual glance behind her but doesn’t fret when she still doesn’t spot Thomas. “Why?” she asks cheerily. “Do you want to play a game with us?” Her little head tilts as she questions, doe-eyes trusting and bright.

“We could play hide and seek!” A delighted little squeal follows.

---

@Niklas