won't you take your time on me; Tenebris

[Tenebris]

It doesn't matter what I do. It all remains the same.

It didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered after the island. No matter how hard he had tried to find meaning in the now colorless life he had been thrust into... he found nothing. All was gone. All the beautiful images so painstakingly painted by the gods had been ripped from his absent view. The painted stallion no longer got to witness the sunrise in its holy glory, the stars in their twinkling mantras, the mountains robed in purples and green. In their place lay a mismatched swathe of colors painted on the back of his ever closed lids. They were ugly and misshapen, no longer a beautiful reminder that he was alive and blessed with air in his lungs. No, instead they were a horrific reminder of what had been done to him. Of who had done this to him.  

Each day was begun with the same aimless wanderings of the previous sunrise and ended with the same restless sleep of the previous nightfall. Every day the stallion wished he had paid more attention to his surroundings when he COULD see. Maybe it would have helped him when he ran into things or got lost. It was many months into his blindness before he found the meadow. (He only knew it was such from the new smells and quiet chattering of pleasantries thrown across the expanse. That and he had asked the first equine he had stumbled upon). As soon as he arrived he never left. Though he would never admit it aloud, he was weak now. He had been dropped into a cage filled with thorns that he could not see. Best not to move then, right? The meadow was always lively and scarcely vacant, so, therefore, he was safer here than say the forest or the river. 

The day Cagney so chose to stumble upon our dear Tenebris was a bad one. It was a day he cursed the island and all its inhabitants for wronging him like this. What had he done to deserve this? Was a mantra that he thought often. A broken record stuck on repeat in the overactive mind he possessed. It is playing as the man approaches (loudly at that) and as he speaks the milky gaze of the star painted stallion stays trained forward, lost in its aimlessness. The stranger's voice (he introduces himself as Cagney, a nice enough name) does not seem cruel or hint at any intentions other than a nice chat. So Tenebris clears his throat and readies himself to speak.

"Hello Cagney, I am Tenebris." He vocalizes with what he hoped wasn't a manic grin (if he could see it he would know it was actually quite pleasant looking, almost sad). Suddenly he hoped the stallion was looking at him, maybe his new company thought him rude if their eyes weren't meeting? By gods was Cagney even addressing him.

"You'll have to excuse me, I can not see you." He adds with a sigh, his sightless eyes roaming in their socketts.

T E N E B R I S

OOC: I hope this didnt ramble to badly and that it made sense kind of.