Midnight begins to creep along the meadows, and seems to enhance the macabre setting. Not destroy, not dull.
His eyes peer back with emptiness, solidly fixed on the black stallion. Sometimes Kult spoke and other times he was speechless, leaving one to endure their weight. Those void black pits told his story, in ways words could not.
He stood strangely still, for a child so young, as if possesed by some malific spectre. He discovered the devils when he was young, much yoinger than he was now. And at that time, came to the realization that these thoughts and actions were occuring inside himself. That he was the creator. His voice floats plainly after the darkness, skirting his steps, but not ever falling too close. "Shouldn't you already know that? What happens when you tear the world apart?" He finishes with a question, a thought, one he had been considering just then.
The female is close now, too close to not take note of. Her form is off, different to what it should be, with a strange reptilian tail. He can make out scales that fold across her skin as she continues to approach. He regards her with a walled indifference. If he took any interest in her unusual shape, he did not show it. He simply stared, looking almost blankly at them both.
The boy watched as the man melted, morphed into the reflection of the female. Staring her down from behind her own face, her own voice. Kult tilted his head if only slightly, his ears straining forward, the only sign he was listening. The stranger reflected her own question back at her and she made answer it seemed, with a name.
Kult blinked once, twice, engaged the original emerald eyes. "Kult." Just the one word, short and clipped. A smile tried to pry past his lips, making the gesture false and strained.
