03-06-2018, 04:59 AM
It was corruption that defined the darkest corners of night, that cradled its children with lulling whispers and dreams that faded into nightmares. From the pale reflections of moonlight that filtered through the wispy fingers of the surrounding pines came shadows that danced without owners, things that moved without existing and evaporated as quickly as they came. Obediently they collected themselves about his feet, the feet of the boy who never slept, but who watched the night with intrigue comparable to the hunter. His ink-black eyes study the mare before him – all white and unfamiliar. They were as deep and impenetrable as ever, reflectionless, save for the shadows that swirled there.
The boy and the wolf stand motionless; the only sign he has heard her words being the flick of a dark-tipped ear. Darkness is an odd thing, as fickle as it was intangible and Khaedrik is a son of shadows. There is nothing unfriendly or predatory in those eternity-eyes, though the wolf lifts its lip to reveal shadow-fangs. Khaedrik simply abandons normality and convention – but he listens and he observes.
”I am Khaedrik” he returns her question ”are you new here?”
His voice is a tangle of wolf-snarl and lilting child-tones he has yet to loose. There are faint strands of curiosity in the boy´s voice, but the wolf takes a hesitant step towards the mare, testing – always testing. Khaedrik only lifts a hoof in warning, but it is enough to send the monster back to his side where it belongs – a sniveling mewl on its lips. Such a strange thing, that the only thing that stands between her and the predator should be this peculiar, gold-skinned colt. And he breathed the scent of death as though it was the only thing to keep him alive.
@[Ilma]