listening for the pulse that just might drive these hearts tonight, anyone

[Raed]

this is a somewhat recycled post I had found because I suck at starting posts.

I'LL BREAK YOU A HUNDRED DIFFERENT WAYS, AND I'LL MAKE YOU REMEMBER MY FACE. Somewhere over the course of his life, Raed had stopped giving a shit, which was a pretty astonishing feat since he hadn’t really lived all that long. While the awkwardness of adolescence had long since given way to hard lines and sharp angles, there was still little age to be found in his navy-blue eyes. He had lived just long enough to feel that he had an idea what the world was about, but not enough for anything to ruin him. The apathy that had settled in his veins had nothing to do with the trials and tribulations of life. There was no great catastrophe to turn him bitter, nothing that had shattered his heart and left the fragments iced over. He just simply didn’t care because he had yet to find a reason to. He had dipped in and out of various kingdoms, done his fair share of mingling and as far as he knew had just a few children running around, but his life, as far as he was concerned, was fairly meaningless. There was only one girl that had even made somewhat of an impact on his otherwise monotone life, but he would be the last to admit it, and definitely never to her face. He is bright blue, with a cerulean-colored mane that fell in a thick, tangled mess down his oddly colored neck. Yet the color is somewhat hidden by the darkness that has settled in the meadow, the stars glinting lazily above in the spots where clouds didn’t hide them. And as the night fell around him, his vision shifted. No longer did the world come in shades of black, gray and the dappled light that usually accompanied the night. Effortlessly the scenery around him changed, and the objects that emitted heat starkly contrasted against those that did not. It was an odd array of colors, sometimes making it difficult to decipher personal features, but it was merely used as an extra precaution that was sometimes needed with the coming of night. He could survive without it, of course, the same way that everyone else did, but what was the point of having the ability if he never used it? It made it easy to see someone approaching without having to really pay close attention. With half-hidden eyes he watches them, his legs brushing easily through the grasses of the meadow. Winter was barely under way and no snow had yet to fall, but judging by the bite in the air that wouldn’t be put off for long. He walks on, ignoring most as he passes them, and he finds it mildly amusing how it seems that no one in Beqanna ever slept. Everything happened at night in this place. R A E D the cerulean son of trashlip and ryatah