I'm not to blame if your world turns to black, anyone

[Nightlock]

"I'll break you a hundred different ways, and I'll make you remember my face." _____________________________________________________________________________________________ He smells her before he hears her. She smells of the wild, of the lands outside of Beqanna. Their forests had a different scent, like their leaves and trees came from a different planet. He had not been there often, but with wings it was impossible to keep himself confined to Beqanna’s borders.  Her scent came on the wind, sweet and untamed. His silver nostrils flared as it reached him, and immediately his posture is erect. With dark eyes he stares into the abysmal darkness, and faintly he can hear the sounds of branches breaking and earth shaking. He does not move, and is instead is still as a statue. Whoever was coming towards him, he would be here waiting for them. His patience is unnerving, as he stands, stoic and statuesque. It’s not so much that he does not fear danger. It’s the fact that he doesn’t fear death. There was nothing to miss about being alive. Everyone was but a walking corpse, pretending to find meaning in their day to day lives, when in reality they would all one day decay into the earth. Breathing, pulsing decay. That’s all they were. A slender ear flicks at the sound of her voice, and he waits a moment for a response, from what he thinks would come from whoever her companion may be. Once he realizes she is merely talking to herself, he moves. His steps are slow and deliberate, keeping his wings tucked carefully at his sides. Even in the darkness, the white of her coat reflects what little light can be found behind the cloud cover. ”And what of the beasts that live amongst the sticks and leaves?” His voice is harsh and grating against the silence of the night, and there is a rasp to it from having not spoken in so long. The flatness of his tone makes it difficult to decipher whether or not there was sarcasm, but the way that he steps immediately into her space suggests there isn’t. ”You’re intruding,” he finishes coolly, walking past her and letting a sterling wing brush her side. ”But lucky for you I don’t bite.” Not usually, at least._____________________________________________________________________________________________ NIGHTLOCK carnage and ryatah