we scream our very souls free
The forest is at the same time miniscule and endless. For a youth like Haunt, what is far is merely a step and what is near could be an eternity. The shadow does not measure time and distance in the same way others do. The shadows are home, and where they touch, so too does the congruous creature. The space belongs to it, much the same way the sun does to the ones who revel in its glory.
The land is ephemeral beneath impossibly dark feet as a lithe and gangly body stretches across strewn leaves and weaves between haphazard trucks. It feels good, this pursuit, an almost unnatural amalgamation of predator and prey. The eerie silence of Haunt’s step and the shockingly sharp slant of not-quite equine teeth speak of a dangerous predator, but the creature needs no meat to sustain life. Just as no sun or breath are required either.
No, this hunt is for joy and pleasure alone. For the thrill of the chase and the giddy delight of the capture.
It’s easy enough to bring the chase to an end when Haunt grows tired of the flight through seemingly endless trees. There is barely a breath of space in this forest shadow does not touch, and those shadows belong to the creature. One moment Haunt is slipping into the curls of the mist, the next Misfit is crashing into the darkness, breaking the still silence with the clip of his hooves and rasp of his breath. To Haunt, it is a beautiful sound.
The blue and gray youth drops his head, staring almost sightlessly into the hollow darkness, waiting for the creature he knows to be there. But Haunt does not take the expected course of action. A faint huff of laughter is all that give’s the shadow’s presence away, followed by a few trilling words.
“Fiiiiittttt.” A soft whispered melody, eerie if not for the familiarity of that name on it’s tongue. “Come here.”
A single blink, glowing yellow eyes the only trail to follow.
@[Misfit]