It’s true, the shadowy primate cannot talk back. But behind it’s eerie dark form, Darkling listens, curiosity and a dangerous delight swirling in the back of his throat. She doesn’t seem terribly put off by the dangling handspun creature, and that disgruntles Darkling in a small sense of the word. As he looks on however, the monkey opens its mouth wide in a silent scream before launching itself forward, directly at the young girl’s face.
Just before it would have reached her, it breaks apart, falling away into tendrils of shadow before disappearing entirely. In the midst of the spectacle, Darkling steps from his shadowy blind, a wide grin stretching his lips. Moments later, the primate reforms, yellow eyes fixed on Ruthless from where it now clings to Darkling’s golden neck.
“Is that what you dream of? Swinging all day?” he asks suddenly. His words are light and curious, though it masks something a bit darker. Something a bit harder to name. He draws forward another step, dark eyes gleaming in the brightness of his features. “I bet it could be arranged.”
There is an edge of humor to his words, but perhaps not the same kind of humor everyone else is so accustomed to. But then, the things that amuse him or not the things that typically amuse others.
you're burning up the sky, you're a constellation
I think that I could die for this revelation