Stand face to face with your god
This is not night.
She can tell by the glaring absence of stars.
And this darkness is so much deeper, almost impenetrable. It makes her immediately irritable as the reptilian eyes flash red as her vision shifts from equine to something more draconic. There should be stars in such darkness but the only celestial bodies that exist here are the stars that tangle themselves up in her mane and tail, that wink weakly in this strange darkness.
She finds him by the galaxy that glows and shifts across his chest. This particular corner of the cosmos that she visits so often in her sleep, practicing as she has been to take him with her someday. To take him, too, to the place where it all ends.
She does not think that the underworld has risen, that monsters -- true monsters -- walk among them. She is too young to remember the gates being flung open, Altar, too young to have any concept of the terror these things might wreak upon the world.
It is not fear that drives her to him because there are so few things of which she is afraid, but rather a need for a beacon in the dark. A compass, her true north, something to orient herself around. She goes to him and touches his shoulder and turns those reptilian eyes into the darkness and murmurs, “what is this?”
@[obelisk]