It has been weeks since Rhonan had brought Anastasia back to his—their—home, and she had learned to appreciate the nooks and crannies he had shown her where darkness erupted. She had learned the path of the kingdom’s border and was becoming adept at avoiding the long, trailing fence of fire; something that she still did not appreciate but had learned she could live with. Mostly, she spent her days with Rhonan, who was an interesting, if not mostly quiet, companion. She had learned to like the way he wielded his power over the shadows—always asking, never telling.
The shadows respected him, and so she did too.
But she is not surprised when their duo is splintered by the arrival of the mare. She simply lifts her dark head, bright yellow eyes peering out toward the mare who walks toward them. Anastasia frowns, feeling that familiar pull in her belly that signaled the arrival of another shadow creature—someone with an affinity to the darkness that was both like and unlike herself. She, however, does not like that Rhynn spoke to Rhonan and not to her; she does not like that the conversation acknowledged but ignored her.
So she takes a step forward, lips peeling back from the inky, sharpness of her teeth. “Ana-sta-stia can intro-duce her-self,” she growls in her broken tongue, stumbling over the larger words. Her ears flatten beneath the smoke of her forelock, and she takes another step, partially in front of Rhonan although she had no instinct to protect the stallion. Anyone worthwhile would be able to protect themselves, and she had no interest in helping someone who was weak. “May-be intro-duce your-self, hm?” she then falls silent, letting the electricity between them pulse in the air.
like the moon, we borrow our light
{I am nothing but a shadow in the night}