Golden eyes watching our every move
Losing time without the sun or moon
It has been a long time since he has paused to consider the shadows he has so long called his own. It’s odd, in a way, to see them as though through the eyes of another. To consider them as Briseis must. What to him offers comfort and a unique sort of warmth must seem yawning and cavernous to another, empty of all things but darkness. As the portal seals behind them, he peers around with new eyes, taking in the impossible pitch of the shadow realm.
Briseis has tucked herself closely against his side, her dark skin lost amidst the endless pitch of this world. He presses closer, surprisingly comforted by her presence here with him. He brushes his muzzle softly against the curve of her neck, saying without words that he would not leave her side. She is warm against him, a living, breathing thing to counter the still coolness of the dark. He can hear her breath in the silence, recognizing with surprise that he is unused to hearing such things here. When the shadows had consumed him, they had driven away his hunger, and his breath too, he realizes. Only habit kept him breathing and speaking in the world of light. Here, he has never had need of it.
Her question brings a faint smile to his lips, his yellow gaze shifting to consider the darkness. “Only if I allow it,” he murmurs into the still hush. He could bring light in here too, he supposes. He had never needed it, but perhaps she did. It’s a simple matter to thin the veil that separates them from the outside world just enough to allow the faintest of gray lights to leak through, muted and diffused by the thickness of shadow. Enough for him to make out the shape of her features, the gentle curve of her ear.
He touches her again, his skin (as pitch dark as the world had been just moments ago) a stark contrast against the more lovely, gleaming black of hers. He doesn’t respond immediately when she suggests Nerine, as though unsure where else she might like to go. But then, she had no clue just how far he could go. Beqanna is so small in comparison to the places he could take her.
Her final question stills him, the faint warmth of his muzzle still pressed against her neck. He had been idly toying with a silken strand of her mane without realizing it, caught in his own musings (unused to company, too easily distracted by his own thoughts). He withdraws slightly, a faint frown touching his lips as he peers into the endless distance. “I suppose it is,” he answers slowly.
Then, as though recalling himself, he brings his gaze briefly back to hers before shifting those yellow eyes to a nearby point. There he peels back the shadows to reveal a sandy shore framed by cliffs, glittering waves lapping against the damp beach. They are tucked deep into a shadow beneath those towering cliffs. He does not step out, however, instead turning to consider his newfound companion. Letting her make the decision. She had requested Nerine, but they could just as easily go anywhere else or nowhere at all.
ether