we scream our very souls free
The shadow child pays little attention to the arbitrary boundaries that mark one land from another. They are meaningless to Haunt, an invisible rule created by adults to impose control on a world they so clearly had so little control over. The shadow would not try to understand it, too caught up in other more amusing foibles. Childish foibles, it’s true. But then, the odd little creature is still a child after all, even if it is one that confuses others.
There is one other Haunt finds intriguing however. A sibling and yet not-sibling. The shadow doesn’t question it, because it simply is, but perhaps others would find their relationship strange. Still, Father seemed to like the boy’s mother a great deal. While that hardly seems significant to Haunt, it had brought Misfit to the shadow. And Haunt rather likes Misfit, even if Bonus Mother eyes them a little strangely sometimes.
Haunt Haunt is the one I want!
The boy-girl hums along with the sing-song tune, head dipping in time to the warbling notes. Though Misfit is not in the child’s sight yet, Haunt can hear him quite clearly. Shadows are endless, everywhere, pervasive, and the little creature made of those very shadows has been rapidly discovering just how extensive they are. Just how different they make it from others. Haunt rather enjoys it, but it would be impossible for the child not to know of it’s many differences.
With a giggle, Haunt flits through the shadows, a skill that comes as easily as breath to anyone else. Misfit would no doubt hear Haunt coming, the childish giggles a dead giveaway despite the utter silence in each breath of movement and alarming lack of scent. But Haunt is made for stealth, and it is easy to steal up on the blue and grey colt, to snake out a nose and tug playfully on a tufty little tail before disappearing back into the shadows from whence the childish creature had been borne.
