I don't care is what Claudius has to bite back. If impulse controlled him, he'd let her know that he didn't care how far he would have to chase her, he would do anything to escape the dark. The hauntingly pale glow in his eyes sharpens as he fights the tension in his jaw, the twitching in his legs. His suffering is written plainly across his face, no matter how stoic he desperately tries to remain. There's a wretchedness so loud in Claudius' face that even he can sense how pitiful he must look. He sinks further into his foulness as he realizes how vulnerable he truly feels.
The fret eventually leaves him, but only after he turns his head to scan the shadows twisting around them. Claudius doesn't look at Brinly as he answers tersely, "No, I do not think it is odd to seek light in the darkness." He is certain his tone gives away how devastated he would be if she were to leave him with this clawing blackness. His eyes close in frustration and each of his breaths comes out between tight lips. Again he does not meet Brinly's eyes when he turns his face away from the coldness, back in the direction of her bright warmth. His eyes are glassy and distant as they trail over the gently crackling flames.
"My name is Claudius," the stallion finally says, forcing nonchalance. He finally flicks his stare up to the mare's eyes, anxiety barely masked in their periwinkle depths. "Do you prefer the dark?" he adds hastily, forming only half of a question. "I mean, since you carry so much light," he adds after a beat, seemingly embarrassed. A creeping envy bleeds into his tension, shivering through every bloodstream.
