we scream our very souls free
The shadow watches their oldest friend and very first lover as he crosses the meadow that divides them. There is a hunger in gleaming yellow eyes, a matching delight at having Misfit back. Though Haunt is not given to noticing the passage of time, as they stare into the face they know so well, the shadow is suddenly aware of the one that had been missing.
But the blue colt-no-longer stops short, a curl of sunlight still separating them. No no no, that simply would not do.
Misfit questions him, and Haunt leans forward until the shape of their delicate head separates from the rest of the shadows they are lost in. Their yellow eyes are bright and predatory as Haunt replies, voice barely above a crooning whisper. “Who else would come, if not me?”
But Haunt is tired of waiting. They are an impatient creature, nearly impossible to please. And the distance that separates them does not please Haunt. So the shadows pulls back, disappearing. The dapples of shadow criss-crossing the blue and gray stallions black lengthen and darken, until he is swallowed by darkness, sucked into the void Haunt had peeled open around him. Then they are deposited into a heavily shadowed glen. The forest is silent around them, the birds and critters absent from these most dark and dangerous depths.
But Haunt is there, pressing against their companion, lips taunting and teeth teasing none too gently. Would they leave scratches in their wake? Hard to say until they eventually let Misfit into the light of day. For now there is only shadow. When finally Haunt speaks, it is to answer the question Misfit had asked. “The forest does not show you because there is nothing quite so terrible and beautiful as I am.”
And they smile, pleased.
@[Misfit]