10-26-2025, 02:52 PM
He has many of his own secrets he would have carved from his bones if he could.
The Beast grumbles within him, as if reading his thoughts and where they stray. As if it could be possible to cleave him from the soul they both share.
He knows it is a fool’s errand, following his thoughts like a winding trail through time itself, but it is a quest he finds himself on far too often.
Like tonight, as the moon hangs swollen and orange on the horizon, catching his attention despite his overworked mind. She’s a pretty thing, at least, he appreciates. Sabrael has never been here before. Stratos. One of the newfangled places that came after he left. One of the places that is so different that he cannot compare it to the places of his heart. He cannot see any semblance of familiarity to stop him cold.
Or to keep that head spinning, as it often does.
No, the shadows here are better suited to him, even in their alienness. Here there is mystery and intrigue to pull his attention from where else it might wander.
Maybe he will stay here for the night and follow the darkness to its edge. Maybe he will instead light his fire and reveal what it has hidden. The Beast stirs again, flutters within his breast at the proposition. It’s been so long since he has been freed, after all. And he is so very hungry for his freedom. So hungry to stretch out those wings and rain destruction and chaos upon whatever might be below him. Whomever, might be below him.
Yes, he might enjoy it, even.
The Beast grumbles within him, as if reading his thoughts and where they stray. As if it could be possible to cleave him from the soul they both share.
He knows it is a fool’s errand, following his thoughts like a winding trail through time itself, but it is a quest he finds himself on far too often.
Like tonight, as the moon hangs swollen and orange on the horizon, catching his attention despite his overworked mind. She’s a pretty thing, at least, he appreciates. Sabrael has never been here before. Stratos. One of the newfangled places that came after he left. One of the places that is so different that he cannot compare it to the places of his heart. He cannot see any semblance of familiarity to stop him cold.
Or to keep that head spinning, as it often does.
No, the shadows here are better suited to him, even in their alienness. Here there is mystery and intrigue to pull his attention from where else it might wander.
Maybe he will stay here for the night and follow the darkness to its edge. Maybe he will instead light his fire and reveal what it has hidden. The Beast stirs again, flutters within his breast at the proposition. It’s been so long since he has been freed, after all. And he is so very hungry for his freedom. So hungry to stretch out those wings and rain destruction and chaos upon whatever might be below him. Whomever, might be below him.
Yes, he might enjoy it, even.