stranger in this land; colby pony

[sochi]

Sochi

darling, you're wild-eyed, empty, and tongue-tied
maybe you need me or maybe you don't

There is a tension that lies underneath the conversation—enough that they cannot simply fall into a friendship. Although Sochi is not quite certain she is capable of such an easy relationship anymore. Once upon a time, perhaps she would have been able. Perhaps she would have even relished it or sought out the opportunities. But now? Now she cannot find such desires in her. It just seems exhausting.

Still, he is an interesting enough companion.

At his question, especially as he asks it while reducing the space between the, her lips rise again, the teeth shifting into sharper canines. “I think you’re a midnight snack,” her tongue flicks out lightly to touch her bottom lip, something like a warning flashing in her silver eyes. She’s given him two warnings now, she thinks, and although she doesn’t usually bother with them at all, she knows she won’t offer a third.

But he pauses and answers her question and she angles her head slightly in thought. “So a chew toy in the dark and a fleshed out meal during the day.” A tilting of her lips into something like humor. “What a blessing, Nightlock.” She cannot imagine what it must be like to pass through the moonlight without so much of you missing. Her shifting has never removed pieces of her—it has never stripped her clean of that which makes her herself. It has only given her the ability to walk in two forms.

It has given her two lives, not less than one.

“How many know both forms of you?” she asks suddenly, thinking back to the earliest years of her life when she hid so much of her true self. Was he the same? Did he segment himself?

Or was he brave enough to show both sides of the same coin?

playing the slow rooms, howling at half moons
if you are a Queen then, honey, I am a wolf

@[Nightlock]