08-14-2015, 03:58 PM
It's heard of him of course, the way it hears of most things. Drifting on the breeze will give you access to all sorts of interesting information that no one wants you to know.
But, a 'shifter' with such an uncommon ability to change is a rarity, subject to gossip. And it peaks it's curiosity.
It knows there are others of course - Phae had told it many times of Nocturnal, the favoured grandchild. And Nocturnal had had many children, according to all the rumours. And the gossip makes it wonder ... is this 'shifter' one of them? Is it a child of the favoured one?
It wants to know if it's not alone.
It seeks the shifter out, trying to catch it in the act. And, eventually, it does. Or it least, it finds a shifter of unusual power. It discovers a name - Tarnished - but little else. The shifter is careful, quiet. It does not associate with the endless dramas of the changeless. Yet.
Eventually, it decides to approach. It has gleaned all it can from distant observation.
It floats down on the breezes, pulling itself into a shape as it sinks to earth. It's not a truly definable shape - a black ... blob ... almost. But that's not quite right. A shifting, light consuming black ... thing. It briefly considers becoming truly solid, choosing a shape for the shifter's sake, but it quickly discards the thought. Maybe later.
A mouth does form in the darkness though and a small, childlike voice trickles out it. "We are ... the same. And yet not." Then it waits, edges flickering.
But, a 'shifter' with such an uncommon ability to change is a rarity, subject to gossip. And it peaks it's curiosity.
It knows there are others of course - Phae had told it many times of Nocturnal, the favoured grandchild. And Nocturnal had had many children, according to all the rumours. And the gossip makes it wonder ... is this 'shifter' one of them? Is it a child of the favoured one?
It wants to know if it's not alone.
It seeks the shifter out, trying to catch it in the act. And, eventually, it does. Or it least, it finds a shifter of unusual power. It discovers a name - Tarnished - but little else. The shifter is careful, quiet. It does not associate with the endless dramas of the changeless. Yet.
Eventually, it decides to approach. It has gleaned all it can from distant observation.
It floats down on the breezes, pulling itself into a shape as it sinks to earth. It's not a truly definable shape - a black ... blob ... almost. But that's not quite right. A shifting, light consuming black ... thing. It briefly considers becoming truly solid, choosing a shape for the shifter's sake, but it quickly discards the thought. Maybe later.
A mouth does form in the darkness though and a small, childlike voice trickles out it. "We are ... the same. And yet not." Then it waits, edges flickering.