She hisses slightly at his approach, the darkness in her sensing the control that he wielded, her yellow eyes narrowing as her tongue flicked at the jagged edges of her inky teeth. “Rhonan is different,” she says in her throaty, rough voice, taking a step forward, darkness pooling around her and melding into her. They were one, and he was the puppeteer. The darkness did not act normal when he was around, and she could not decide if she liked that or not. It was curious indeed, and she liked things that were a little strange.
But she was not sure she liked her shadow friends falling prey to his strange control.
“Rhonan is shadow?” this time her harsh voice lifted a little at the end, a question—an accusation. She decides that she does not like his control, does not like feeling powerless against it. Ana throws up a portal and steps through it, reappearing behind him hissing like a cat with water thrown on it. “Rhonan is not shadow,” a little more certainty this time as she steps through another portal several yards to his left, “but Rhonan tells the shadows what to do.” She frowns, making a tsk tsk noise against her teeth.
“That’s not nice, Rhonan.” She stalks through the darkness to his side, breaking through the barrier between them, pressing her predator nose against his coat to sniff at him. “Not nice at all.” She breathes out heavily, pushing the side of his face a little as if trying to see him better. She considers letting the acid get rid of him (he is a threat, he is a beast, he is shadow but not), but she holds back for now, instead staying uncomfortably close to him, her breath hot as she paused before spitting out. “Anastasia.”
What a pretty name for such a pretty girl.
like the moon, we borrow our light
{I am nothing but a shadow in the night}