jamie
from the destruction, out of the flame
The shadow thing has never known true anger.
It is one of the many things that the weakness has taken from him.
So rarely does he have the energy for it and, when he does, there is nothing to rouse it.
But the shadow thing does not take kindly to the accusation.
The darkness flashes its teeth, its ink-black mouth. Gone is the shark-tooth smile. Gone is the feeble attempt at warmth.
The shadow thing does not like being called a liar. Ideas cannot lie, they can only be misconstrued. Thoughts cannot mislead, as they are only thoughts. And he does not belong to this blue stallion and the blue stallion does not belong to him. He has wasted much time believing these things and his heart chugs something painful.
Perhaps his expression would darken if the peculiar face had any features. But he just stares, unblinking, as the stallion succumbs to his demons. The shadow thing cannot see them, nor does he care to. He cannot save this tired soul and this tired soul certainly cannot save him.
For the first time in a long time, he wants to sink his teeth into the stallion’s flesh. He wants to taste the blood. He wants to drain the life out of him for calling him a liar. Isn’t that what the teeth are for? He feels no hunger, he does not feed the way that they feed, so their sharpness must mean something sinister.
“You will never rest,” the shadow thing agrees. How easy it would be to kill him. To snuff the life out of him with those fingers of fog or bleed the life out of him with the razor’s edge teeth. But the darkness is such a vengeful thing. The darkness will not kill him, no. It will continue to punish him. For lying, for calling the shadow thing a liar. To kill him would be too merciful.
“It could have been beautiful,” he continues and the sorrow returns to his tone as he tilts his peculiar head, “but you lied. I don’t belong to you.”
He draws in a long, rattling breath and exhales a mournful sigh. “I could have helped you.”
you need a villain, give me a name
@[Balto]