09-26-2021, 09:19 PM
His home is in the dense forests of Taiga, a place where light cannot abide and darkness thrives beneath branches heavy with the broad, long needle-like leaves of the redwood trees. Like many of his relatives, it is this absence of light that suits them so. The shadow clan is a vast one, and so many of them have been touched by some kind of darkness or another, made to suit the night in a world that remains half-bright. A few of them are like him, made of living shadow and with golden lantern eyes, predator eyes to match the predator teeth like jagged mountain ranges in his mouth. But there are others who are more, others who are less, though there are none like the girl he has been stalking through this unfamiliar forest.
She is so much like him. Dressed in the living dark that bends and breathes and unfurls around the gravity of her solid silhouette. For a while he had thought she might be the same as him, made of shadow and silence and the secrets better taken to the grave. But when turns and glances about he notices that her eyes are entirely mortal, entirely normal, and the color is a rather disappointing shade of dark forest green. As colors go, it is a nice one. A shade that reminds him of Taiga, even. But, just for a moment, he had already begun to imagine her with his same glowing yellow gaze. Anything else now just feels like less.
Still, he is content to watch her, still curious of the way the dark hangs from her like fog in a way that is satisfactorily familiar. She may not be like him but she is like his shadow clan, like his deep forest home.
He is as silent as her shadow where he follows her wanderings through the forest, content until she pauses and shadow builds beside her in some hulking shapeless mass he cannot readily identify. He pushes ahead to study at a different angle, slipping through the trees in her periphery without a single sound. It is only when that creature lumbers away and he catches a look of those yellow lantern eyes that the predator beneath his skin awakes.
Erebos follows it, loping like a panther on feet that make no sound in the crushed leaves and dirt of the forest floor. But when he draws into its path to face the creature down, he discovers it is strangely lifeless, without spark, and continues lumbering past.
When he returns from the deeper parts of the forest to find the winged girl again, there is another with her. This one is her opposite, all things soft and bright and sparkling where Maylene is built for the darkest parts of forgotten caves. He joins them silently, an apparition of dark prying itself from the shadows as he turns that lantern gaze on the girl with the shadows but answers the question of the second who had joined her. “You are.” He tells Saturnelle, though his accusing eyes never leave Maylene’s young face. And then, his voice still an unpleasant hiss like wind through dying leaves, “Who was that?” But he does not even gesture in the direction of the shadow creature that had just disappeared into the distant forest.
She is so much like him. Dressed in the living dark that bends and breathes and unfurls around the gravity of her solid silhouette. For a while he had thought she might be the same as him, made of shadow and silence and the secrets better taken to the grave. But when turns and glances about he notices that her eyes are entirely mortal, entirely normal, and the color is a rather disappointing shade of dark forest green. As colors go, it is a nice one. A shade that reminds him of Taiga, even. But, just for a moment, he had already begun to imagine her with his same glowing yellow gaze. Anything else now just feels like less.
Still, he is content to watch her, still curious of the way the dark hangs from her like fog in a way that is satisfactorily familiar. She may not be like him but she is like his shadow clan, like his deep forest home.
He is as silent as her shadow where he follows her wanderings through the forest, content until she pauses and shadow builds beside her in some hulking shapeless mass he cannot readily identify. He pushes ahead to study at a different angle, slipping through the trees in her periphery without a single sound. It is only when that creature lumbers away and he catches a look of those yellow lantern eyes that the predator beneath his skin awakes.
Erebos follows it, loping like a panther on feet that make no sound in the crushed leaves and dirt of the forest floor. But when he draws into its path to face the creature down, he discovers it is strangely lifeless, without spark, and continues lumbering past.
When he returns from the deeper parts of the forest to find the winged girl again, there is another with her. This one is her opposite, all things soft and bright and sparkling where Maylene is built for the darkest parts of forgotten caves. He joins them silently, an apparition of dark prying itself from the shadows as he turns that lantern gaze on the girl with the shadows but answers the question of the second who had joined her. “You are.” He tells Saturnelle, though his accusing eyes never leave Maylene’s young face. And then, his voice still an unpleasant hiss like wind through dying leaves, “Who was that?” But he does not even gesture in the direction of the shadow creature that had just disappeared into the distant forest.
EREBOS
like fists unraveling, like glass unshattering,
i want to be astonished
@Maylene
@Saturnelle