[private] Out with the golden we sew // Rodrik.

[Kagerus]

Out with the golden we sew, and the lower past that crawls.
Now, to the doorway you run, to the girl that's not lost.

It gets too much, sometimes.
(As if it's ever been manageable.)
I find myself wandering further and further away from the light, my eyes hurting, the sinner inside of me cowering in the presence of that which condemns it.
(Or else, you're wandering closer and closer to the dark: to that which you are destined for.)
Recruiting, being with Solace, even spending time with father - I can only go on for so long before I must retire to the shadows. Either with Khaedrik or Rapt, or someone new like Zosma - but most of the time, by myself. With the only company that at once understands me, and does not.
(You stubborn girl, holding on to ideals and ideologies that you have outgrown. Shed your childish innocence. It's looking more like tattered rags than anything moral ought to.)

I'm here again, in the forest. Looking for someone maybe, or maybe not. Surrounded by trees to which I have no connection, but which envelop my mottled figure nonetheless, claiming me, marking me as one of their own: a shadow-dweller. A black-sheep in my family of lights and neutrals...

Or perhaps they are the black-sheep in a family of darklings.

There is a small clearing ahead, and I blink at it; the moon illuminates the area, and the contrasting light is shocking to behold. Thinking of my recent encounter with Kagerou, in the white vapors of Hyaline's mountaintops, I decide to approach: to see if maybe, just maybe some tendril of her being will meet me there.

I slip into the silvery area lightly, a wraith in the cool autumn night. As I lower my head to graze and be reverent of Kagerou's calm, peaceful spirit, something strange happens. Atop my mottled bay-and-white coat, markings begin to shimmer. The moonlight, strong and unhindered by clouds, reveals the gift that my grandmother bestowed upon me: clouded leopard spots, spread all across my body, visible only in the moonlight, the light beneath which we met.

Perhaps it is because of these markings that he approaches.

Kagerus

sweet nothing

@[Shelbi] this is absolute garbage, enjoy